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THREE PLAYS BY M. DOUGLAS FLATTERY 



THREE PLAYS BY 
M. DOUGLAS FLATTERY 



ANNIE LAURIE : : THE SUBTERFUGE 
THE CONSPIRATORS 




BOSTON 

The Four Seas Company 
publishers 



Copyright, ip03, ipij, ip2i, by 

M. DOUGLAS FLATTERY 



All rights are expressly reserved, including dramatic, stage, 
and moving picture rights. For rights of public perform- 
ance, address the publishers, who are the author's agents. 






The Four Seas Press 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 



MAR 30 IS22 



:'C!.D 613 25 



CONTENTS 

Page 

Annie Laurie . 9 

The Conspirators 8i 

The Subterfuge 151 



ANNIE LAURIE 

A ROMANTIC DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS AND FIVE SCENES 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 
[Original production August 9, 1909, Orpheum Theatre, Boston] 

Robert Reid, a soldier of fortune Charles F. Miller 

Lord Greenock, a powerful but dissipated nobleman 

Walter Walker 
IcHABOD Bounce, an outlawed preacher Edwin Holland 
Mackay, a captain of Scots Musketeers Wyrley Birch 
Tammy Robinson, Lord Greenock's factotum 

Harry English 
Lord McIntyre, Privy Councillor, friend of Greenock 

John Meehan 
Earl Dumbarton, King James's favorite and Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the Scottish Army Wm. Mason 
Lord Chancellor Paul Linton 

Lord Claverhouse George Wellington 

General Dalziel Andrew Dalton 

Sergeant Weymss Hay, Scots Musketeers 

/. Francis Sullivan 
The Butler, at Maxwelton Castle Walter James 

Hubert McGee, a soldier Stanley Graves 

Sir Thomas Campbell John MacNeil 

Annie Laurie, of Maxwelton Edna Bruns 

Hilda Lovat, her friend Mary Sanders 

Margaret, Lord Greenock's housekeeper 

Katherine Clinton 

Lady Mary, Annie's great-aunt Rose Morison 

Jeannie, the cook at Maxwelton Hazele Burgess 

Sarah, the maid at Maxwelton Castle Jeannette Briggs 

Privy Councillors, Soldiers, Servants, etc. 



ACT I. 

[Castle of Maxzvelton near Edinburgh. Time 1668 — 
Evening. The left of stage shows part of interior of 
dining room, lighted by candles {or candelabra). Right, 
the lawn outside Castle is shown.] 

[Discover Lady Mary and Butler. Lady Mary is 

reading a letter.] 

Lady Mary. God keep us from harm. I wish my 
brother would come home and live peacefully for his few 
remaining days. 

Butler. The master was never one to rest easily when 
the sword was clashing and the guns roaring. Any news, 
my lady? 

Lady Mary. Yes, none too good. The preacher 
Bounce, who is in hiding on the moor, has come from 
Holland to get the names of the Lords and gentry to a 
petition. 

Butler. What's that? 

Lady Mary. A paper — a letter inviting William of 
Orange to invade England and drive James from the 
throne. 

Butler. Oh ! Oh ! More war and bloodshed. 

Lady Mary. Yes, I'm afraid so, but I have no more 
kin to lose in battle, none but Annie Laurie remaining. 

Butler. You need not fear the battle, my lady, but 
the raid. 

Lady Mary. Yes, yes, we all suffer in such times. 
But enough. The preacher will be here to-night if he 
can avoid the patrol, and as my brother recommends him 
to my care we must show him what hospitality we can. 

[IcHABOD enters Right, and looking apprehensively 
about steals to the door and knocks. Lady Mary 



lo THREE PLAYS 

and Butler, who have been busying themselves in 
the room, seem startled.^ 

Butler. Ho there ! What want ye at this hour ? Who 
are ye? 

IcHABOD. A friend in distress. 

Butler. Gang awa wi ye, or I'll set the dogs on ye. 

IcHABOD. Open quick. There is danger about. I have 
a message for your lady. 

Butler. Your name? 

IcHABOD. Never mind my name. I come from the 
laird, her brother. 

Lady Mary. It must be the preacher. Open. 

[Butler drazvs the bolt. Enter Ichabod. Tammy is 
seen peeping from behind a tree up stage Right. He 
beckons to someone off, and man enters.] 

Tammy. The game is in the cover. Mount your nag 
and go as if the divvle was after you. Tell his lordship 
to send the soldiers and I'll meet him at the Tolbooth to 
get the warrant. (Exit.) Off with ye. 

Lady Mary. Well, sir. Your business? 

IcHABOD. To crave hospitality for a few days and get 
your support for the good cause. 

Lady Mary. The good cause? 

Ichabod. Aye, my lady. The good and holy cause of 
Kirk and covenant. The traitor James Stuart will surely 
be driven into the sea, and good friends must all help. 

Lady Mary. God save us, sir! I have nothing to do 
with such things. My age and sex must be my excuse. 

Ichabod. Nor age nor sex will excuse you on the day 
of Judgment. Your duty to God and Country calls on 
you. Your station makes it necessary for you to take a 
stand with good people or with the Usurper. 

Lady Mary. Stay here, sir, and enjoy food, drink, and 
bed until you can travel but I like not those papers. 

Ichabod. I have tasted neither food nor drink since 
yesterday at sunrise, but I touch not refreshment under 
your roof until you declare yourself. (Staggers and 
grasps chair for support.) 



ANNIE LAURIE ii 

Lady Mary. Are you ill? 

ICHABOD. Not ill, just weak for lack of food and drink. 

Butler. Here, take this. It will set you up. Nothing 
like a wee drop of brandy to — 

ICHABOD {Knocks silver cup from his hand). Brandy, 
do you say? Get thee behind me, Satan. 

Butler. You gommeral. I'd like to throw you out 
with my lady's permission. 

Lady Mary. Begone, James. {Exit Butler Left, 
scowling at Ichabod. ) 

IcHABOD. My lady, your good brother in Holland is 
dying and craves to get back to his own land to rest his 
weary bones. He is outlawed by James and can hope for 
pardon only when William is on the throne. Will you do 
nothing to help him ? 

Lady Mary. What can I do? I am an old woman 
and helpless. 

IcHABOD. See, here is the petition to the good William. 
Over one hundred nobles and gentry have signed. Your 
name will show where your heart is and will do no harm. 

Lady Mary. But if you should be discovered and 
captured, what would become of us? 

IcHABOD. No fear of that. The whole country is dis- 
affected. The Council which misgoverns the country 
while James is carousing in London has made every man 
discontented with their search warrants and torture. No 
man's home is sacred, no woman's virtue secure, but 
vengeance approacheth. 

Lady Mary. Hush! Even the servants are not safe. 
What are your plans? 

Ichabod. To hide here with your permission for three 
days, when a boat will await me to take me on board a 
schooner for the Continent. These names will decide 
William. Inside three months he will be in London with 
an army, and James will be a fugitive or dead. 

Lady Mary. Oh for a few years of peace and quiet ! 

IcHABOD. There will be no peace while James reigns. 
Will you sign? 



12 THREE PLAYS 

Lady Mary. I suppose I must, but I fear I know not 
what. 

[She signs. Ichabod takes paper, folds it carefully and 
hides it in his clothing.] 

Lady Mary (touches gong. Enter Butler Left.) 
Show Master Bounce a room in the west tower, and lay 
an extra plate. Dinner will be served when you are 
ready, sir. 

Ichabod. You won't have long to wait for me, my 
lady, because I am about famished. (Exit Left, fol- 
lowing Butler.) 

Lady Mary. I fear me I have done wrong in signing 
that paper. {Leans her head on her hand and table. 
Enter Annie Left.) 

Annie. Grannie, are you ill? Can't I get something 
for you? (Puts her arm.s around Lady Mary.) 

Lady Mary. My love, not ill, only weary and worried. 

Annie. What worries you, grannie? Share it with 
me. That will lessen the burden. 

Lady Mary. The preacher Bounce, whom your uncle 
wrote about, has arrived and he brings talk of war and 
plunder and raiding. Oh, God of Peace, why do you 
permit it? 

Annie. Well, dear, it can't hurt us very much. If the 
armies come this way we'll stay shut up in our old castle 
until they pass by. 

Lady Mary. Impossible, my child. They swarm the 
land like locusts and devour everything ; and leave nothing 
but destruction and ruin behind thsm. Friend and foe 
suffer alike. But enough, we must prepare for dinner. 

Annie. Is the preacher to dine with us? 

Lady Mary. Yes, dear, and run now and tell the cook 
not to use any brandy in her sauce for the plum pudding. 

Annie. No sauce, Auntie ! 

Lady Mary. No brandy, dear. The preacher is a 
fanatic and would choke if he knew his food were 
flavored with whiskey or brandy. 

Annie. (Laughing). I'm afraid cook will refuse to 



ANNIE LAURIE 13 

give us any dinner at all when she hears that her beautiful 

pudding is to be spoilt with unflavored sauce. (Exit Left.) 

[Enter Butler and Maid, Left.] 

Lady Mary. Serve dinner in fifteen minutes, James. 
(Exit Left.) 

Butler. (Right of table, who has heard same.) Yes, 
my lady, but it's a pity to spoil the plum pudding for the 
sake of that fule preacher. 

Maid. (At Left of table.) Who's a-goin' to spoil the 
plumpuddin'? Air ye daft? 

Butler. I'm na daft, but the cook will be daft when 
my lady tells her there's to be nae brandy on the puddin' 
for fear of hurtin' the susceptibeelities o' the meenister. 

Maid. J hae ma doots aboot a wee drap o' brandy 
hurtin' his what-you-may-ca'-it. (Exit). 

[Enter Cook, who places pudding on sideboard.] 

Butler. Weel, Jeannie, ma girl, I'm thinkin' that the 
best pairt o' your plum puddin' will be missin' at the 
dinner. 

Cook. (Up Center of table). Ye're talkin', John, but 
I don't get much o' your meanin'. I'm thinkin' that that's 
the best plum puddin' I ever made, and a' it needs is a 
wee drap o' brandy to gie it a flavor that will reach your 
shoe-straps. 

Butler. (Facing sideboard and talking over his 
shoulder) . Ho ! ho ! brandy, is it ? And don't ye ken that 
the leddies decided not to have even a thimbleful? 'Tis 
an abomination in the eyes of the gude mon frae Holland, 
and would choke him. (Exit) . 

Cook. And I hope it will choke the gommeral! To 
think of my beautiful puddin', which took me a week to 
make, should be spoilt. (Takes pudding up, smells it 
rapturously, and puts it down with a sigh. Then takes up 
a large jar of brandy, and take:: out the cork.) Ah! here 
is the stuff to mak' it perfect. I'll put on just a wee 
drappie — they'll never know. 

[Pours a cupful of brandy on the pudding and exit 
Left. Enter Butler.] 



14 THREE PLAYS 

Butler. I'm thinkin' a glassful will na hurt the meenis- 
ter, and 'twill help the pudding. 

[Poiirs a glassful of brandy on the pudding. Exit. 

Enter Maid stealthily.] 
Maid. (Up at sideboard) . Och ! I canna rest at the 
thocht o' the graund pudding being spoilt. The meenister 
will never ken a little. 

[Pours a glassful of brandy on the pudding and spills 
more of it in her haste, and then exit. Enter Lady 
Mary and Butler, Left.] 
Lady Mary. Lack-a-day, that a lady of the house of 
Maxwelton should have to creep round her own castle 
like a malefactor, and be afraid to entertain whatever 
guest she chooses — whether from Castle or Kirk. If 
those bloodthirsty lairds knew that the preacher were 
here, they'd hang him from our own doorpost before 
morning, and maybe give us poor ladies a turn in the 
cells of Edinburgh Castle. (She proceeds to arrange the 
table). Ah! here's the pudding. Faith! 'twill be of poor 
flavor without a little good brandy. But if Master 
Ichabod found the taste of brandy on his food, he'd choke. 
Well, though, 'tis a pity not to have a little, just to take 
the taste of the pot off it. 

[Butler laughs and exit. She pours some brandy on 

pudding and exit. Enter Annie, Left.] 
Annie. Oh, dear me! I'm afraid I'm going to do 
something dreadful, but cook is so angry about her 
pudding not being flavored, that I'm going to put just a 
spoonful of brandy on it. 

[Goes Right Center, pours some brandy from jar, and 

spills a lot on the pudding, in her nervousness when 

she hears someone approaching. Enter Lady Mary 

and Ichabod, followed by Butler and Maid. They 

sit down to the table and Ichabod asks the blessing. ] 

Ichabod. (At back of table, unctiously.) Bless ye the 

food which we eat to sustain our bodies in the fight against 

the cursed usurper. And bless the drink — the aqua pura — 

sent by a beneficent Providence to moisten our lips, and 



ANNIE LAURIE 15 

help us to resist the cursed firewater, invented by Satan 
for our especial temptation. I thank thee, O Father, that 
this devil's drink has never passed my lips. So keep me 
and all of us. Amen. 

[Lady Mary, Annie, Butler and Maid all show signs 
of embarrassment. Dinner is served, and dishes are 
passed. During dialogue, a patrol of the Royal Scots 
headed by MacKay enters by right of stage. 
MacKay is accompanied by his young friend, 
Robert Reed, and by Seargeant Weymss, second in 
com.m^and.'] 
MacKay. Sergeant, where tarries that loitering lubber 
who was to have joined us on the march? 
Sergeant. You mean the macer, sir? 
■MacKay. Ay, he has the Council's warrant for this 
dirty work. 

Sergeant. That must be he yonder by the ruins. 
(Goes up Right.) 

Robert. He with the rapier and feather! He looks 
like a gentleman, but he seems to watch us. 

[Enter Lord Greenock, with his cape pushed up over 
the lower part of his face and his hat pulled down to 
conceal his eyes. He is partly intoxicated.'] 
MacKay. So ho ! sir, good-even to ye ! You are late 
abroad to-night ! 

Greenock. At your service^ sir. 
MacKay. For King or for Covenant, sir? 
Greenock. Tush! that's an old-fashioned test. You 
should have asked {Whispering.) for James II or 
William of Orange. 

MacKay. Hush ! my Lord Greenock ! 
Greenock. Right, by Jove! 

MacKay. By my body, it seems strange to see a Privy 
Councillor of His Majesty roving about like a night-hawk. 
Greenock. I am the best judge of my own actions. 
MacKay. {Proudly). Your business, my lord? 
Greenock. You will take particular care of the young 
lady — bosh — I mean the old one. They must not escape, 



i6 THREE PLAYS 

or you shall answer to the Council. Comprenez-vous ? 
The young lady of Maxwelton? 

MacKay. Too well, my lord. (Lord Greenock exit 
Right. MacKay /om.f Robert). 

MacKay. Curse the Hbertine! Will he make me his 
cat's paw ? By Heavens ! He deserves a slash on the 
helmet for casting his eyes on a noble lady as he would 
on a bona roba. (To Sergeant.) Sergeant, surround 
the house. 

[Soldiers are placed by JVeymss.] 

Sergeant. (Speaking in a loud whisper.) Attention! 
No. I. You stand guard here. Remainder, Left Turn, 
March ! 

[Exit Left behind dinning room.] 

Robert. What said he, MacKay? Did he speak *of 
Mistress Laurie? 

MacKay. Yes, and to this purpose : that on the peril 
of our beards, the ladies must not escape — especially the 
fair Annie. He is a deep intriguer, and the devil only 
knows what he is hatching against the girl. 

Robert. 'Sdeath, assure me of this, and I will follow 
him, and brain him with my pike. 

MacKay. ( Catching him by left arm. ) Hush ! Hush ! 
lad, these words are dangerous. You are still a young 
soldier. (Laughs). Had you trailed a pike under Henry 
de la Tour or old Marshal Crecy, like me, you would have 
learnt to value a girl's tears and a granddam's groans at 
the same ransom. But, begad, I would give my helmet 
full of gold had this cursed duty fallen on someone else. 
[Walks up center and off Left.] 

Lady Mary. And how left ye our friends? 

IcHABOD. Well and strong, my Lady, and living in 
hope of soon striking the accursed James. 

Annie. Oh ! dear me ! Are we to see more bloodshed? 

ICHABOD. Ay, and it shall flow like a river, until the 
sins of the idolaters are washed away. 

Annie. Why can't people live in peace? 

IcHABOD. There shall be no peace while the scarlet 



ANNIE LAURIE 17 

woman is in ascendant. Yea, verily, I shall soon help to 
smite the dogs hip and thigh. 

Annie. But, reverend sir, your mission is one of peace 
and goodwill, and it seems ill-becoming to hear words of 
vengeance from one of your cloth. {The pudding is 
served by Butler. Enter Robert and MacKay as before.) 

Robert. Eh, MacKay, you were not wont to be 
backward ! 

MacKay. Never when bullets or blades are to be 

encountered! But to worry a crazy old preacherj and 

harry the house and barony of an ancient and honourable 

lady — by all the devils, it is not work for men of honour. 

{Both come down, Robert Left of MacKay.] 

Robert. And Mistress Annie is a close friend and 
gossip of your fiancee. Mistress Lovat. 

MacKay. 'Tis true! And my fairy Hilda, will give 
me many a tongue-wagging for this night's work. 

Robert. {Bitterly.) Well, I have that advantage over 
you, MacKay, in that I am homeless and friendless — a 
nameless volunteer, uncaring and uncared for. 

MacKay. Don't get a fit of the blues, old man. 

Robert. I have trailed this pike for five years. 

MacKay. Yes, and promotion seems to have over- 
looked you, although you have fought well and bled too. 
But, cheer up! If this rascal of Orange unfurls his 
banner among us, we shall have fighting — ay, faith, to 
which the race of Dunbar and the sack of Dundee will 
be deemed child's play. And, hark ! my boy. I trailed 
a pike for four long years under Turin on many a bloody 
field ere I obtained my colors and then I thought my 
fortune was made — but I am still a poor lieutenant. 

Robert. But your commission gives you rank and 
standing, and enables you to meet the girl you love on an 
equal footing. 

MacKay. Art in love, Robert, lad? I knew it not. 

Robert. Yes, years ago, when I was page to the fair 
and good Countess Dumbarton, I played at children's 
games with, and lost my heart to, a girl of high degree, 



i8 THREE PLAYS 

who is now a toast in camp and Court. She is a fitting 
mate for the highest in the land — while I am a poor, 
private soldier. 

[Cross Right, sits on stump of tree.] 

MacKay. (With foot on seat.) Well, you will need 
to harden your heart to-night, my lad, for if aught in 
Scotland will make a man swerve from his duty, it is the 
flashing eye and ruddy lip of fair Annie Laurie. The 
beauty of her person is equalled only by the winning 
grace of her manner. Hast seen her, lad? 

Robert. (With vivacity.) A thousand times! 

MacKay. And spoken to her? 

Robert. Alas ! no : — at least not these five years since 
I left the service of the Countess. 

Ichabod. (Who has been eating voraciously.) This 
food seems very good. Can I have some more? (Helps 
himself largely.) The sauce is of a new kind, but it tastes 
exceedingly good, and has a bite and flavor which pleases 
my palate. 

[He eats voraciously, and spoons the brandy from 
his plate.] 

MacKay. If we find these Dutch renegades, it will go 
hard with the ladies, as they are already under suspicion, 
and the Government is thoroughly scared by the number 
of plots which are unearthed every day. 

Robert. (Rises.) What, in Heaven's name, can 
prompt ladles of honour to meddle in matters of Kirk 
or State? 

MacKay. The great father of confusion ! But I shall 
be sorry to exact marching-money and free quarters from 
old Lady Mary. 

Robert. But what is the exact accusation? 

MacKay. Lord Greenock alleges that her Ladyship 
knows of an intended invasion from Holland, and that 
she harbours an emissary from that country. 

Robert. (Passionately.) There are rascals at the 
Council board who more richly deserve the rope of the 
provost marshal, and Lord Green — 



ANNIE LAURIE 19 

MacKay. Hush ! If the soldiers overhear, you are 
a lost man. 

Robert. God save King James, say I, but to the devil 
with the Council, which is driving the country to ruin 
at full galop. 

ICHABOD. Ah ! this good food warms my heart, and 
think me not greedy if I take some more. 

[Helps himself again, and lifts the dish up, so that the 
brandy is drained upon his plate."] 

Butler. {Up left, to Maid.) Ay, lassie, look at 
him; he's not so daft as I thoucht he was. 

Maid. If he takes any more, he'll be drunk as a loon. 

MacKay. Hush ! here comes the rascally macer. 
{Enter Macer Right.) Fellow, why did you not meet 
us as arranged? 

Tammy. Troth, sir, it's an unpleasasnt job, this, and 
like to get a man into trouble these uncanny times ; and 
as I need a little strength, I stayed a little while to sample 
the ale at Lucky Creep's house. But the game is in the 
cover, and we'll catch the traitor at Madam's fireside. 

ICHABOD. {Finishing his food.) Ay, now, I feel like 
a man inspired. Show me the bloody and papistical 
James, and I'll tear his head from his body. 

[Bangs his fist on the table, and sweeps his plate to the 
floor. All rise.] 

Tammy. {All outside except Tammy go up stage.) 
Hark! what was that? (Tammy crosses to door and 
peeps through keyhole of door to house.) 

IcHABOD. My word, but that puddin' tasted week 

[He rises and takes the best chair near the fire. Ser- 
vants clear the table. Outside Tammy glues his ear 
to the keyhole.] 

Tammy. {At door of house.) If we delay a whilie, 
we may discover more of this plot than we yet know. 
Behold the godly Master Ichabod sitting in the cosiest 
nuik. And isn't he as gallons a looking buckie as ever 
skirled a psalm in the muirlands? 



20 THREE PLAYS 

Robert. Silence! wretch, or I'll trounce thee. 

[Robert approaches and peeps through the window and 
sees Lady Mary putting a cushion behind Ichabod's 
head. ] 

IcHABOD. {At fire singing.) 

I hear a voice from Heaven, 
Commanding me to sing, 
Go forth and lead the godly host 
Against the bluidy King. 

Lady Mary. Great Heavens ! the man is drunk ; he 
will bring the patrol down on the house. (Annie crosses 
and places a footstool for Ichabod. ) 

Robert. (Goes back.) Damn the fellow! Let us 
break in at once, MacKay, and end the business. 

Tammy. (At door.) Patience, good sir. In a little 
while I will have evidence enough to send the whole brood 
to the torture. 

[Robert grasps Tammy by the collar, and throws him 
across the stage. ] 

Robert. Stay there, wretch, until you are asked for 
your warrant. 

Tammy. (Rubbing his hands.) Oh, ho, my fine 
buckie, you crow brawly for the spawn of an old Cov- 
enanter — brawly indeed. But, maybe, I'll hae ye under 
my hands yet for your bravery and fine gewgaws. 

Ichabod. (At fire.) Maiden, will ye not accompany 
me on your spinnet in the most godly words of the 
psalms ? 

Annie. (In front of table.) Think of the danger of 
being overheard, Mr. Bounce. 

Lady Mary. Yes, indeed, the singing of the Psalms 
may cost ye your head. 

Annie. I will sing you my new song, "The Harp of 
the North." 

Ichabod. (Rising.) Name it not, maiden, thy pro- 
fane songs are an abomination in mine ear. (Annie 
laughs merrily.) Fair as ye are to look upon, maiden, 
and innocent withal, I fear me that ye are one of the 



ANNIE LAURIE 21 

backsliders of this sinful generation. "The Harp of 
the North," did ye say? Know ye that there is no harp, 
save the Harp of Zion, which is a lyre of treble-refined 
gold? What sayeth the sacred Writ? Is any among ye 
afflicted? Let him pray. Is any merry? Let him sing 
Psalms. {Drops hack in chair.) 

Annie. I fear me it would be but sad merriment. 

Lady Mary. {Comes forward.) Peace, Annie! 

Annie. Mr. Bounce's point of view and mine are as 
different as our natures. I sing and dance, because my 
heart beats merrily with the joy of living, and everything 
in nature seems blessed. I am sure Mr. Bounce must be 
nursing a secret pain either in body or mind. 
IcHABOD. {Rising, coming Left.) Maiden, when thoti 
hast perused my forthcoming book thou shalt see there 
in words of fire the Great and Narrow Way contrasted 
with the Broad and Dangerous Path that leadeth to the 
Sea of Flame. And that the man of sin, the Anti-Christ, 
which is the bloody James Stuart. 

[Here a dog harks loudly inside, and Ichabod's voice 
dies away, and he shows signs of fear. ] 

MacKay. Damn that dog. Our fellows must have 
stirred him up. 

Annie. There's somebody trespassing outside. 

IcHABOD. Perhaps the patrol. 

Annie. No, no — a poacher perhaps. 

Lady Mary. The dog howls eerily! God save us, 
that foretells Death. And far-seeing folk say that dumb 
brutes can see the reaper enter the house when a soul is 
going to depart. 

IcHABOD. As I was saying, I will show thee that the 
blessing of Heaven will descend on the men of the 
Covenant. 

Lady Mary. Yea, and upon their children. 

IcHABOD. Even unto the third and fourth generation. 

Lady Mary. My honored husband was as true a 
cavalier as ever wore buff, but some of my nearest have 



22 THREE PLAYS 

fought with the Covenanters, and I can think kindly of 
both. 

Annie. But if our good King should permit — 

IcHABOD. (Jumping up from his chair and speaking 
in a shrill, angry voice.) Maiden, mean ye the bloody 
and papistical Duke James, who contrary to the law has 
usurped the throne? That throne, from which justice 
hath debarred him! That throne, from the steps of 
which the blood of God's children, the saints of our 
oppressed and martyred Kirk, rolls down, and deluges 
the land ! Hark ye ! it is written, that the hour cometh, 
when they shall perish. On one hand, we have the power 
of the horned beast that sitteth on seven hills, and her 
best beloved son, James, with his thumbscrews, his iron 
boots and his gory mane, supported by the savage 
Amorites from the Highlands, who go bare-legged to 
battle, the soldiers of Dumbarton, the troopers of Clav- 
ersee. In England, the Lambs of Kirke, and gallows of 
the butcher — Jeffreys — a sea of blood, of darkness, death 
and horror. But lo ! on the other hand, behold the dawn 
of the morn of peace, of love, of mercy, when the exile 
shall be restored to his hearth, and the doomed snatched 
from the scaffold. For the day dawneth when the 
saviour shall approach — and our saviour will be William 
of Orange. 

[During this tirade Lady Mary shows signs of great 
uneasiness and terror. Annie smiles, amused, while 
on the outside the macer rubs his hands in glee.] 

MacKay. (Left near door outside, to Robert.) You 
have heard this tirade of treason and folly? 

Tammy. Damn me, it is enough to hang, draw, and 
quarter a whole parish. 

MacKay. Soldiers, look well that none escape by the 
windows. You, sergeant, knock at the door. 

[Sergeant bangs the door with his halberd. Lady 
Mary runs about as if looking for means of escape. 
IcHABOD staggers about and gets under table.'] 

IcHABOD. Oh, wae is me, the Philistines are upon me. 



ANNIE LAURIE 23 

Sergeant. (Outside door.) We are Pontius Pilate's 
guards, old croaker. 

Annie. (Opens a shutter and peers out.) Soldiers! 
Soldiers ! Oh ! Aunt Mary, we are ruined and disgraced 
forever. 

[Lady Mary puts the light out, and Annie closes the 

shutters. The butler, who is the only male attendant 

in the house, enters. Ichabod is pushed into a secret 

panel in the wall by Annie, and she and Lady Mary 

leave the room.] 

Butler. (Making a bluff at door.) Close up there, 

my men, and guard all the windows. Should anyone dare 

approach, fire. (To the soldiers.) Who are ye, without 

there, who disturb the peace of my lady at this hour? 

Gang awa, or it will be the waur for ye. 

Sergeant. (Outside.) Open, rascals, or we will set 
the four comers of the house on fire. 

Butler. (At door.) Doubtless, my bold buckie, but 
the walls are thick, and the windows well-grated, and we 
gave a stronger band of Cromwell's Puritans their 
stomach- full in the year 1650. 

MacKay. Open, varlet, and waste not our time. We 
are soldiers of the King, and have a warrant of search 
from the Council. 

Butler. Noo, ye loons,we'll gie ye a taste of Crom- 
well's days, if ye dinna mak' scarce in five minutes. 
Lads, take the plugs from the loop-holes, and burn a light 
in the north tower, and we'll hae a' the lads in the barony 
round the ears of these loons in a few minutes. 
[Enter Annie.] 
Annie. 'Tis useless, John, withdraw the bolt. 
[Butler opens door, and MacKay enters, backed up 
by Robert. Sergeant Weymss and the soldiers 
appear in the background. Enter maid with lighted 
candle. ] 
Annie. (Haughtily.) Good keep us, MacKay — and 
you Master Reid, and what way is this to approach the 
house of Maxwelton? 



24 THREE PLAYS 

Robert. 'Tis a most unpleasant duty, Mistress Annie. 

MacKay. We have information that you conceal a 
spy from Holland. 

Annie. Your information is false. 

MacKay. {Haughtily.) Enough, Mistress Annie. 
I will spare you the trouble of making assertions which 
the laws of hospitality require, but which must be 
humiliating to you as well as to me. Macer, guard the 
door. Sergeant, search the house from roof to cellar, 
and cut down all who interfere with you. But on your 
lives, no plunder. 

[Sergeant, followed by soldiers, rushes past Annie to 
the door, the Butler and Maid flying before them. 
Annie stands in a corner, looking scornfully. 
Robert and MacKay appear somewhat ashamed. 
MacKay walks to the buffet, and fills a cup of wine, 
which he drinks, uninvited, to Annie's health.] 

Robert. Mistress Laurie, surrender this guilty and 
foolish man, and you may avert the wrath of the already- 
incensed Council. 

Annie. Never, sir, will we be guilty of such a breach 
of hospitality and honor. You may hew me to pieces 
with your swords but never would I yield a fugitive to 
the tortures of that infamous Council. 

Robert. Beware, lest our soldiers, or that dog, the 
macer, overhear you. 

Annie. Keep your fears and sympathies for those 
that like them. (She goes out.) 

MacKay. (Goes to sideboard and takes glass of wine. ) 
Glorious v/ine, this ! 

Robert. This dirty work makes me ashamed of my 
uniform. (Enter Lady Mary Left.) 

Lady Mary. Oh, God ! my sorrow is hard to bear. 
I have seen my brave husband and my three bonnie bairns 
ride off to battle and death, and save Annie Laurie, my 
sister's grandchild, there is none of my blood left in the 



ANNIE LAURIE 25 

world. But this disgrace and sorrow are harder to bear 
than all that has gone before. 

[She breaks down and cries. Robert and MacKay 

appear to be touched by her sorrow.] 
Robert. Well, Madam, perhaps our soldiers may not 
find the gommeral after all. 

[A loud sneeze is heard from Ichabod.] 
IcHABOD. (A muffled voice.) Let me out or I 
smother. (Then the voice is heard singing.) 

I hear a voice from Heaven 
Commanding me to sing; 
Go forth and lead the godly host 
Against the bluidy King. 

[Robert and MacKay burst into laughter.] 
Lady Mary. Oh ! ye fule man, ye have ruined the 
house of Maxwelton, and yourself. 

Robert. Where the devil is he? There must be some 
panel about. 

[He knocks the wainscoting with the pummel of his 

sword. Enter Tammy.] 
Tammy. He's not very far off, I'll wager. I'll haul 
him out in a minute. 

Robert. Then do so, knave. But, first, doff your hat 
in the presence of Lady Mary. {He knocks off Tammy's 
hat.) 

Tammy. There's something queer about this panel. 
[He approaches the wall, and after feeling about for a 
little, he presses a spring, and the panel flies open. 
He drags out the preacher, whose face is black with 
dust, and who looks terrified. Enter Sergeant and 
soldiers Left. They take Ichabod Right.] 
Robert. Dolt and fool! What tempted you to rant 
while we were within earshot? 

MacKay. The varlet must be mad ! Dost think we'll 
eat thee, fellow? 

Robert. Mad ! I hope so for the sake of the ladies. 
MacKay. And for the marrow in his bones ! 



26 THREE PLAYS 

Tammy. {Soldiers take Ichabod.) Come awa, me 
buckie. Use your shanks while the ungodly Philistines 
will let you. You'll not walk so well after you have tried 
the maiden's boot in the torture room. 

Ichabod. From these sons of blood, good Lord, 
deliver me. Ye devouring wolves, I demand your 
warrant ! 

MacKay. Macer, your warrant! 

Tammy. {Produces paper. Reads.) "1, Tammy 
Robertson, Macer to the Privy Council, by virtue of and 
conform to the law, summon you, the Reverend Henry, 
otherwise Ichabod Bounce" — is that right? 

Ichabod. Yes, that's enough. I was so named by my 
parents — Henry, a heathenish name, which in an hour 
of light, I changed to Ichabod, which signifies in the 
Hebrew tongue, "Where is glory." 

Tammy. Ne'er mind the Hebrew. 

Ichabod. Fie upon ye — abjurers of God, and perse- 
cutors of the Covenanted Kirk. 

Robert. Away with him! 

Ichabod. Truly, ye are properly clad in scarlet for 
it is the garb — - 

Robert. Silence ! 

Ichabod. Of your Babylonian mother ! 

MacKay. Peace ! 

Sergeant. On with the gyves, and away with him. 

[He is handcuffed and dragged outside singing Psalms, 
etc. Lady Mary is about to speak to him as he is 
dragged out. Tammy and soldiers follow Sergeant 
to the door, also MacKay.] 

Robert. Pardon me. Lady Mary, by addressing him, 
you will only compromise your own safety and honor, 

MacKay. {Near door.) Madam, I am compelled to 
inform you that your whole family and servants are my 
prisoners. {Crossing to center outside.) 

Lady Mary. {Has been pacing hack and forth to fire.) 
Alas! there is only niy little grand-niece ! 

MacKay. {From door.) Sergeant, you will remain 



ANNIE LAURIE 27 

in charge with half the men; I will leave Mr. Reid with 

you. 

[Exit and marches off half the soldiers with Ichabod. 

Off Right IcHABOD is singing "I hear a Voice," etc.] 

Sergeant. {Outside.) You will keep the post of 

honor, Robert, my lad, until I reUeve you — and beware 

of the women. 

Robert. I will do my duty. Lady Mary, you and 
Mistress Laurie will please remain in that room. {Exit 
Lady Mary.) 

Sergeant. {To Butler, who enters.) Varlet, rouse 
your lazy fellows, and bring the best in your larder to my 
iDrave lads, on the lawn ; and don't forget some good wine, 
and a bucket of good October. 

[Exit Sergeant, who posts several sentries. Food and 
drink are brought, and the soldiers feast and make 
merry, and before long, all show signs of intoxica- 
tion. Music: "Annie Laurie" p. p. until Lady Mary 
enters. ] 
Sergeant. {To soldier.) Grant, my lad — you will 
keep post from the door around to the old moat at the 
other side of the house. Let no one pass in or out with- 
out the countersign, which is Greenock. 

[Exit soldier and Sergeant.] 
Robert. What a dog's duty is this, watching two 
helpless ladies, for one of whom I would give my life. 
Oh! sweet Mistress Annie, will the gulf of rank and 
wealth that separates us ever be bridged so that I can 
approach you as a friend ? 

[Annie peeps out from door. Enter Butler from 
Left with food and drink for soldiers. Crosses 
through door and exit Right.] 
Annie. {Comes to table.) Oh, I am so pleased that 
it is you, Robert! 

Robert. {Joyfully. Comes around end of table.) 
You have forgiven me? 

Annie. Forgiven? Yes, indeed, how could I remain 
angry with the playfellow of my youth, with whom I have 



28 THREE PLAYS 

spent so many happy hours. But what a dreadful night 
this has been for all of us ! 

Robert. Need I say, Mistress Annie, that it has been 
a night of mortification for me? But what can a poor 
soldier do but obey? 

Annie. It is so different from our last meeting. 
(Sits in chair front of table.) 

Robert. Ah, yes! Do you remember it? 

Annie. In the rose-garden. . 

Robert. Ah, I can even now recall the heavenly odor. 

Annie. And the fountain of Venus sending its spray 
sparkling in the sunlight. 

Robert. And you gave me the prettiest rosebud. 

Annie. How nice of you to remember. 

Robert. (Leaning over chair.') While memory lasts, 
I will never forget. 

Annie. And you gave me the rosette you had won at 
the fencing tournament. 

Robert. The Queen herself pinned it on my breast. 

Annie. (Rises.) And yet you gave it to me. 

Robert. As I would have given my life — my soul. 

Annie. I have it yet. 

Robert. And I the rose. It has never left me. See 
— it is in the little bag hanging by a ribbon round my neck, 
[Lady Mary calls out "Annie" and enters.] 

Annie. (Crosses to fire.) Hush, here is Aunt Mary ! 
[Robert bows gracefully to Lady Mary.] 

Lady Mary. Young man, for a soldier, you seem 
good and gentle. Have you a mother who is dear to you, 
a sister whom you love? 

Robert. Nor mother, nor sister, nor kindred have I. 
Alas ! I am the first — perhaps the last of my race. But 
what would your Ladyship with Robert Reid? 

Lady Mary. Ha! you are one of the Reids of that 
ilk? They are dear friends of mine. 

Robert. No relation! I am simply Robert Reid, a 
Scottish volunteer, and of no family whatever. But how 
can I serve you? 



ANNIE LAURIE 2g 

Lady Mary. (Comes close to him.) How can I 
speak it? That you will sleep on your post, and permit 
this poor child — you understand? Oh! I will nobly 
reward you, and the deed will be registered in Heaven. 

Annie. (Tearfully.) Oh, no, no, no, beg not such 
a boon for me, and at such a sacrifice. 

Robert. You would counsel me to my ruin. Lady 
Mary! Is it generous or noble, when I am but a poor 
soldier? (Lady Mary takes out her purse, and makes 
an effort to count out some gold.) Seek not to corrupt 
me, madam, for all I posssess is my honor. And yet, for 
Annie Laurie, I would dare much. 

Lady Mary. (Angrily.) How is this, sir? You 
know my kinswoman? And by that glance ye seem to 
have met before. (Goes to Annie.) Speak, Annie, 
what means this? 

Annie. (Confused.) Oh, Aunt! I have known him 
long. 

Robert. I have had the honor of often seeing Mistress 
Annie at my Lord Dumbarton's. 

Lady Mary. (Turns to him.) How's this? Are 
you little Reid? 

Robert. My Lady's page. Madam. 

Lady Mary. (Striking the floor angrily with her 
cane.) By my father's bones, I never thought a time 
would come when I should beg a boon in vain — either 
from a Lord's loon or a lady's page. 

[Robert is deeply affected and hurt, and Annie turns 
away to hide her tears.] 

Robert. (Proudly. ) I am the first private gentleman 
of Dumbarton's Musketeers, and I am so unused to such 
language, that had the best man in Scotland spoken those 
words, I would take his measure with my sword. 

Lady Mary. Your spirit is admirable, sir, but surely 
it might be shown in better cause than persecuting help- 
less women. 

Robert. Ah ! forgive me, Lady Mary ! For the past 
five years I have been more used to the rough life of a 



30 THREE PLAYS 

camp, where a word is followed by a blow, than to the 
society of gentle ladies. But my honor belongs to the 
King of Scotland, whose orders I must obey. 

Lady Mary. Then, gentle sir, be generous as your 
bearing is noble, and permit my little girl to escape. Alas ! 
you know what is in store for us, if we are dragged before 
that terrible Council — ^fine, imprisonment, or even torture. 

Annie. Or banishment into slavery in Virginia. 
{She hursts into tears.) 

Robert. God knows, I pity you, ladies, and would 
willingly give my life to serve you. Retire to your room. 
I will keep my post, and you can escape through the 
windows at the back. 

Annie. Alas ! they are grated and there are sentinels 
without. (Robert turns away a moment.) 

Lady Mary. I could bear the thought of banishment, 
even in my old age, and the thumbscrews and tortures of 
the Council, and the thought of being buried far from my 
own is hard to bear — but my heart bleeds for thee, my 
dear love, Annie. {Goes to Annie.) 

Robert. Oh ! Madam, they cannot be such villains 
as to harm her — so young — so fair! 

Lady Mary. Worse than death awaits her! Lord 
Greenock rules at the Council Board. Wretch ! wretch ! 
Too well I know that it is for worse than thumbscrews 
he would reserve her. (Robert starts.) 

Robert. Why should I scruple? MacKay has 
already hinted to me of Greenock — -that roue and rufifian 
v/ho disgraces our peerage. 

Annie. Let dear Aunt Mary escape, and, good Master 
Reid, you shall have my prayers and gratitude for life. 

Robert. Artless Annie, Greenock aims neither at 
Lady Mary's liberty nor life. He is a villain, and you, 
sweet maid, have many things to fear. Leave me to my 
fate, and to the fury of the Council. 

Annie. Dear Lord, guide us in our trouble. Oh ! 
what shall we do? 

Lady Mary. Let me offer you money. 



ANNIE LAURIE 31 

Robert. Lady Mary, I have risked my life a dozen 
times in a worse cause than yours, and for a few shillings 
a month; but such service as this, is not to be paid for in 
money. Lady Mary, permit me to lead you forth. 

[He draws off his glove and offers his hand to the old 

lady. ] 
Lady Mary. You have quite the air of a Cavalier. 
And ere we go, I should like to know what will be your 
punishment for this breach of duty. 

Robert. (Laughing bitterly.) A few days in the 
guard-house on hard bread and sour beer, and perhaps 
twenty- four hours guarding in full marching harness. 
(To Annie.) In serving you, fair Annie, I shall be 
more than a thousand times recompensed for any penance 
I may perform. 

[The soldiers outside make a noise and the Sergeant 

calls out for the relief to get ready.] 
Sergeant. {Outside.) Get your belt on, you lazy 
loon. You must relieve Grant for an hour, so that he can 
get a bite and a drink. 

[He enters Right with soldiers. The sentry enters 

from Left.] 

Sergeant. Your post is around to the old moat and 

back. Watch the windows and allow no one inside the 

lines or out without the countersign, which is Greenock. 

Soldier. All right. Sergeant. {Exit Sergeant and 

Grant. ) 

[The fugitives, accompanied by Rorert, hurry to the 
side door, Lady Mary with a long cloak on. As 
they exeunt, a challenge is heard. Robert takes off 
his long military cloak and hat, and puts them on 
Annie. Robert goes outside to reconnoitre. Lady 
Mary and Annie follow him. Sentry enters. 
Robert pushes the ladies back through the door. 
The sentry challenges Robert from outside.] 
Sentry. Halt! Who goes there? 
Robert. Friend. 
Sentry. Halt ! friend, and give the countersign. 



32 THREE PLAYS 

Robert. "Greenock." 

Sentry. Pass, friend, all's well. 

[Robert runs down quietly to the door.] 

Annie. (As they exeunt.) Poor Master Reid! I 
tremble more for you than for ourselves. God bless you, 
until we meet again. 

Robert. (Enters door and sits on chair front of table. ) 
Till we meet again ! Alas ! we shall never meet again in 
this life. I am a lost man. Tomorrow the Council 
Chamber, the thumbscrews, and the boot. These poor 
legs of mine will be crushed till the marrow is pressed 
from the bones. Alas ! thus go my boyish ambitions, and 
the airy castles I have so often built. Ah ! Mistress 
Annie, you know not what honored place I have made 
for you in all these poor castles. Well, it is done. 

[He jumps up, and resumes his m^arch before the door, 
as the Sergeant enters with Hub., who takes 
Robert's post. Both Sergeant and Hub. show the 
influence of wine.] 

Sergeant. (In house.) I warrant you'll be tired of 
this post of honor. Master Robert, and that you will now 
enjoy a leg of devilled turkey, and a horn of good Rhine 
wine. 

Robert. I thought you had forgotten me, Weymss. 
(To Hub.) Have a care sir, that you do not disturb 
the ladies; they are entitled to their rest. Do you hear, 
turnip-head ? 

Hub. (Sleepily.) Dod-rot thee, Master Reid; I have 
clanked my boots before the tent of the King of France, 
and ye cannot teach me how to watch king or knave. 
Besides, my father was an old vassal of her ladyship, 
and I have more respect for the old blood, than to dragoon 
my Lady of marching money. 

Robert. 'Tis well ! 

■ [Exeunt Robert and Sergeant. Hub. sits down in 

chair, and falls asleep, his musket falling from his 

lap to the floor. Outside, the Sergeant offers 

Robert a cup of wine. Just as he has finished the 



ANNIE LAURIE 33 

wine they exit, a challenge is heard and the macer 
enters. at the Right.] 

Sentry. (Off.) Halt! Who goes there? 

Macer. (Off.) Friend. 

Sentry. Halt and give the countersign. 

Macer. "Greenock." 

Robert. I thought we had seen the last of your ugly- 
visage for tonight. 

Tammy. Roast me, I am not here by choice! Lord 
Greenock is so anxious for the safety of the prisoners, 
that he waited for us at the Tolbooth, and when he found 
that the ladies were not with us, he dispatched me at once 
with orders to bring them at once to Edinburgh. 

Sergeant. (From outside.) I feel not like any more 
marching tonight, but needs must when the devil drives. 
(He enters, and crosses to door of house, followed by 
Tammy, and seeing Hub. asleep and his musket on the 
floor, he picks it up, and bangs Hub. on the legs with it.) 
Wake up, you lazy loon! If you slept on post like this 
on the field you would stop a volley of bullets at cock- 
crow. (Hub jumps up, confused.) 

Hub. Forgive me. Sergeant, 'tis the cursed wine. 
(Music marsiale and presto.) 

Sergeant. All right, lad, I'll overlook it this time. 
(Knocks at the door of the room where Lady Mary and 
Annie had retired. ) Rouse up, my Ladies. The Coun- 
cil orders you to Edinburgh at once. Rouse up. 
(Knocks louder, then with hilt of his sword.) Answer 
ye, my ladies, or I break the door. (Opens door, and 
enters room, followed by Macer, and they return in a 
moment to the stage.) The birds have flown, and your 
life will be forfeited, my boy. 

[Robert crosses and watches from door.] 

Tammy. Ay, forfeited, and every nail on your fingers 
and toes will be pulled out by the roots, and your tongue 
will be cut out and fed to the corbies, and your eyes will 
be plucked out, and toasted before your face. That will 
teach you to keep awake on your post, youbrawgommeral. 



34 THREE PLAYS 

Hub. ( Confused and alarmed. ) I swear they did not 
pass me while I was on post. 

Tammy. Much good your swearing will do, when the 
Sergeant and I saw you asleep, and your musket on the 
floor. Oh ! you'll have a picnic tomorrow. (Enter 
Robert.) 

Hub. What can I do or say? Help me. Master 
Robert! Oh! would to God that I had been piked or 
shot in the field. 

[Sergeant starts to unbuckle Hub.'s bandolier and 
belt, and Robert steps forward. ] 

Robert. Let him be, the lad is innocent. I allowed 
the ladies to escape, and will take whatever punishment 
is coming to me. 

Hub. I knew it, and I had your word. Master Robert. 
We always deemed you a gentleman of honor, although 
a poor soldier like the rest of us. 

Robert. The generosity of my purpose must be my 
excuse for deceiving you, Hubert. 

Tammy. Eh I But what will my Lord Chancellor 
say? (Aside.) Now I'll see you squirming, my braw 
laddie. (Rubs his hands gleefully.) 

Sergeant. Or Sir Thomas Dalziel, or Claversee? 

Tammy. Or my Lord Greenock — he'll be crazy! 

Sergeant. Gook and gommeral, boy, what devil tempt- 
ed thee — but why need I ask? Yon gipsy's blue eyes . . . 

Robert. Hush ! 

Sergeant. . . . had thrown a glamour over thee. 
Wherever woman be, there will mischief bide. What a 
pumpkin-head I was not to keep watch myself — a girlie's 
tears or grandma's greeting woulna hae much effect on 
me. Did not the thocht of the vengeance of the Council 
prevent ye from runnin' your head into the lion's mouth? 

ELoBERT. No, Weymss, I did as my heart dictated, 
when I saw women in danger. 

Sergeant. Had they been twa auld witches, with 
hairy chins, black, broken teeth, and hands like the claws 
of a cat, would your tender heart have dictated otherwise? 



ANNIE LAURIE 35 

Huh, when next I set a handsome young lad to watch a 
pretty girl, may the deil split me, and use my own pike 
for a toasting fork. 

Tammy. {To Robert.) And I hope the deil will do 
it in the end anyhow. 

[Approaches Robert, draws the latter's sword, throws 
it away, and is about to handcuff him when the 
Sergeant throws him aside.] 

Sergeant. Hands off, you dog ! This man is a sol- 
dier, and is my prisoner. You'll have your dirty fingers 
on him soon enough. 

curtain 



36 THREE PLAYS 



ACT II. 

[The dungeon, evening, a week later. Scene discloses a 
dirty and gloomy dungeon, with large hut heavily 
grated ivindow at side. Some straw is thrown on 
floor. At the left of stage is shown the alley on the 
outside of the prison. Robert is sitting dejectedly 
on the ground. In the distance Ichabod is heard 
singing and praying. Before the curtain rises, a 
voice supposed to he Robert's is heard singing the 
song "Annie Laurie." Robert throws himself on 
the straw and tries to sleep. Outside Macer is 
sitting up near wall. Enter Sergeant. Tammy 
turns away and pulls his hat over his eyes. ] 

Sergeant. {Seeing Tammy.) Hello — who's this. 

Macer. Your friend, Sergeant. 

Sergeant. What are you doing around here? 

Macer. Enjoying the air, gossip. But away wi ye. 
Here's my Lord Greenock coming. 

[Sergeant exit. Enter Greenock.] 

Greenock. Well, Tammy, any news? 

Macer. De'il a bit, my Lord. I've been on watch 
every minute since sun up, either inside the prison or out 
here. 

Greenock. Doesn't the cursed soldier weaken? 

Macer. Not a bit. But take my word for it, the 
leddies will send some message or maybe come themselves 
to see him and then we'll have them in a trap. 

Greenock. You know where to find me. Keep a 
sharp lookout. {Exit.) 

Macer. {Following Greenock.) All right, my 
Lord, trust me ! 

Ichabod. {In the distance.) How long, O Lord! 
wilt thou permit these dragons to devour thy chosen 
people? Rejoice, O children of the Covenant! For the 



ANNIE LAURIE 37 

avenger approaches. William of Orange will render 
vengeance on the enemies of the Lord. 

[Sings, "I Hear a Voice from Heaven," etc. Enter 
Macer carrying a loaf of bread and a jug of water. ] 

Macer. Shut-up. Hoot, it's that fule body, Bounce, 
blowing like a piper through the keyhole. If his tongue 
had been bored with a red hot bodkin, he wouldna crow 
sae loud. Does he disturb you, soldier? 

Robert. {Seated on stool.) Disturb me? No! 
His voice is a welcome sound in the deadly darkness and 
silence of this place. 

Macer. Well, he ought to be hanged. It's a pity to 
waste good food and liquor on him. 

Robert. Is there not a single touch of pity in your 
wretched heart? 

Macer. Yes, pity for myself. And you'll hae your- 
self to think of in the morning, when the blacksmith'll 
be down to rivet a broad collar of steel round your bonnie 
neck, or maybe pull your tongue out by the roots. 

Robert. Begone! I've heard your wretched threats 
every day during the week I've been here. 

Macer. Weel, I think it'll come true tomorrow, as 
the soldier councillors, who got you mercy, are leaving 
Edinburgh for the field. 

Robert. Begone ! And leave me to my misery ! 

Macer. Noo, me braw lad, I'll give ye a piece of 
advice for the hundredth time. Tell where the lass is 
hidin', and that'll save your life anyhow. 

Robert. (Cheerfully.) Ah! It's cheerful to know 
that they escaped you. It will help keep me from despair 
for another day to know that my darling has escaped 
their villainous hands. 

Macer. Oh ! Braw talk is cheap ; but my Lord 
Greenock is like a hungry wolf on the scent; and even 
if he'd be willing to let the girl escape; her broad acres 
are too tempting a bait to let go so easily. 

Robert. (Passionately. ) Oh ! How can I retain my 
reason in this inactivity? 



38 THREE PLAYS 

Macer. My Lord will get her anyhow; and if ye're 
wise ye'll get awa wi' yer life by givin' information that 
will please his Lordship. 

Robert. (Rises.) Begone, fellow! Or I'll lose my 
temper. 

Macer. Oh, hoity-toity ! Temper is a luxury for the 
likes o' ye ! What are ye but a poor soldier? And, sure, 
it's uncommon impudence to be castin' eyes at a lady of 
quality, who wouldn't permit you to tie her shoestring. 

Robert. (Dejectedly sits down again.) Alas! 'Tis 
true ! Oh ! why did I permit myself this dream ? She 
has entered my thoughts and my heart, until even my 
ambitions have lost interest and are forgotten. 

Macer. Ah ! Now ye're talkin'. I have heard Lord 
Dumbarton say that ye were the best soldier in his regi- 
ment, and would mak' a braw and dashin' officer some 
day. 

Robert. Ah! My Lord Dumbarton and my lady 
patron, if they were here, they would advise me and get 
me out of this predicament. 

Macer. (Temptingly.) And, ye know, laddie, that 
Lord Greenock is powerful with the King and Council, 
and I wunna be surprised now, if ye act sensible and 
crave his pardon, and tell him where to get the lass and 
auld lady, that he will get ye free, and e'en get ye your 
commission in the auld regiment. 

Robert. (Jumps up, grabs the macer by the neck, 
and shakes him.) You hell-hound, I'll kill you if you 
speak the lady's name again. (Throws him to Right.) 
Tell Lord Greenock to do his worst. I would rather see 
Annie Laurie dead — and die myself, even by the torture — 
than that she should fall into the clutches of such a 
vampire. 

Macer. (From the door.) Weel, goodbye, I'll bring 
the blacksmith with me in the mornin'. (Exit.) 

Robert. (Paces up and down.) Oh! would that I 
could die ! This wretched silence and filth will drive me 
mad. Had my dear friend, Lady Dumbarton, been on 



ANNIE LAURIE 39 

this side of the border, I would not have been thus perse- 
cuted and forgotten. And why tarries MacKay? Hath 
my friendship no claim on him ? Shame cannot keep him 
away, for I committed no crime. (Pauses. ) Ah ! sweet 
Annie, I wonder if you have spared a thought for the 
poor soldier who suffers thus for love of you? Can 
you guess that you are never out of my thoughts? And, 
after all, it is but the love of you that keeps me up ! And 
even if I die, or am sent into slavery, I may hope that 
some kind hand will deliver these verses to you which I 
have written and have sung so often since I have been 
in this vile place. 

[He sings "Annie Laurie." As he sings a cavalier and 
two cloaked ladies come down the alley, and listen 
outside the window.'] 

Annie. {Rapturously.) The dear fellow sings of 
me. Ah! how he must have suffered in this dreadful 
place. 

MacKay. I wish I had a company of my brave fel- 
lows. I would storm the wretched hole and drag him 
forth into God's pure air. {As Robert finishes the song, 
MacKay climbs on a rock, which he has dragged under 
the cell window, and rattles at the bars. Annie and 
Hilda stand together at left.) Hullo, Robert, wake up, 
my lad. (Robert climbs up to the window and clasps 
his friend's hand through the bars. Standing on stool.) 
By all the devils, this is an unpleasant hour. 

Robert. Not so bad, now that I know that you have 
not forgotten me. 

MacKay. I could never forget a friend or comrade, 
but I have been powerless to help you. 

Robert. But are there not tidings of Dumbarton, our 
Commander ? 

MacKay. The devil, no ! But we expect him every 
moment, as he left London three weeks ago. 

Hilda. {Pushing MacKay aside.) There are others 
who have not forgotten thee, but MacKay seems resolved 
to talk for us all. 



40 THREE PLAYS 

MacKay. a thousand pardons, my fair Hilda, but I 
had almost — 

Hilda. Almost forgotten me? Do you dare say so! 
{Gets up on rock.) But, oh! my poor boy, Reid, I am 
so sorry to see you here. 

Robert. I thank thee, Mistress Hilda, but the honor 
of this visit would gild the darkest prison in Scotland. 
{He kisses Hilda's hand.] 

Hilda. (Annie crosses to Hilda.) And, now, 
Master Robert, I must introduce a friend, who has come 
to thank you personally for your bravery. Come, love, 
approach and speak. My word for it, how the lassie 
trembles. (Hilda helps Annie on the rock.) Hold her 
hand, Robert ,or she will fall from this unsteady pedestal. 

[Robert takes her hand, and MacKay and Hilda walk 
to the head of the alley to keep watch. Annie 
throws hack her hood.] 

Robert. {Kissing Annie's hand.) Ingrate that I 
was to repine, when I was remembered by thee. 

Annie. Oh, Robert! Lady Mary has lamented bit- 
terly. We can never repay you. Oh! how can I forget 
that but for you, we might have become the occupants of 
that dreadful place, the air of which chills me even here ! 

Robert. You a prisoner here, sweet Annie ! The idea 
is too horrible ! 

Annie. Poor Robert ! 

Robert. Having your hands in mine reminds me of 
the old days, when we gathered pebbles on the banks of 
the loch, and flowers from the hedges in the summer 
sunshine. 

Annie. Yes, indeed, those were happy days ! 

Robert. Never have I been so happy since. 

Annie. Poor Robert ! How sincerely I pity you ! 

Robert. Then I bless the chance that brought me 
here. 

Annie. What! In that cold, damp pit? {Shudder- 
ing.) 'Tis a place of horror. Oh ! that I could free you, 
Master Reid ! 



ANNIE LAURIE 41 

Robert. Oh Annie! call me Robert — without the 
master. It will remind me of old days, ere your rank 
and wealth raised such a gulf between us. 

Annie. They can do so no longer. (Weeps.) We 
are landless and ruined now — all our estates have been 
forfeited. If it were not for poor Aunt Mary, I would 
surrender myself to the Council today. 

Robert. 'Sdeath! do not think of it. 

Annie. We accuse ourselves of cowardice and 
selfishness in allowing you to suffer for us. 

Robert. Do not think of it ! And please leave me 
now, for the thought of what might happen to you if we 
were discovered almost drives me mad. (Annie cries.) 

Robert. Oh, Annie, if I were rich, I feel that I could 
love you. 

Annie. And if one is poor, cannot one love? 

Robert. Oh, yes, Annie ! my sweet Annie ! 

Annie. Is there no escape from this dreadful place? 
Can't these bars be broken after dark? 

Robert. 'Tis no longer a prison — 'tis the sweetest 
abode on earth, now that I may venture to hope that some 
day when I win my spurs I may approach you. 

Annie. Oh, Robert dear, how can you say it, when 
you are in the power of this Council to be tried for 
treason — and all for us. 

Robert. I wish I could do something more to show 
my love — something worthy, something that would exalt 
me in your thoughts. 

Annie. A woman's love needs no such nourishment, 
dear; we just love blindly, devotedly — sometimes without 
rhyme or reason as the little flower turns on its stem and 
begs the rising sun to kiss its drooping petals, drinking 
in from its sweet caress warmth, strength, and life. 

Robert. And can you love me like that, sweet Annie? 
How the thought lifts up my soul, which has yearned so 
long for your love. Ever since we wandered hand in 
hand as children, I have dreamt of none but you — waking 
or sleeping, you were ever in my thoughts like a beautiful 



42 THREE PLAYS 

guardian angel. (Sighing.) But my presumption seemed 
like madness. And you are not angry with me. (She 
kisses his hand.) Oh, for one hour of freedom; (He 
shakes the bars.) I'd forfeit the rest of my life. 

Annie. Don't be so extravagant, dear, your life 
belongs to me. 

Robert. Darling ! 

Annie. Hush ! Hush ! someone approaches. 

Robert. Then away to MacKay, for he alone can 
protect you. One word — where are you secreted? 

Annie. With my old nurse, Elsie. There we live in 
poverty and obscurity. 

[Lord Greenock, who is somewhat intoxicated, 
approaches, muffled. He grasps Annie round the 
waist, and lifts her to the ground.] 

Annie. Help ! Help ! 

Greenock. (Tearing the hood from her face.) 
Annie Laurie, by all the gods ! Why, I thought thee only 
a poor sand-rat or bona roba. This is glorious ! You 
will come with me, my beauty, and you must choose 
between the tapestried chamber of my Castle, and the 
wisp of straw in the stone vault of the prison. 

Annie. Help, MacKay, for the love of heaven! 

Greenock. (Taking Annie round the waist and hold- 
ing her in his arms.) Ah ha, my sweet love-bird, 
Greenock's star is in its zenith. (Mockingly to Robert.) 
I thank thee, soldier, for being the bait that enticed this 
tit-bit into my arms. 

Annie. (Pleadingly.) My Lord Greenock, please 
release me. My Aunt will die of grief and . . . 
(Greenock crushes her in his arms. She cries out in 
pain.) You hurt me. 

Robert. (At window.) You coward, let the girl go, 
or I'll kill you. 

Greenock. I'll let her go, after I've carried her to 
my Castle, and entertained her for a month — then she can 
go if she wants to. But revenge is sweeter than love to 



ANNIE LAURIE 43 

my heart, and (To Annie) you'll beg of me to marry you 
yet on your bended knees. 

Robert. {Shaking the bars of the window madly.) 
Dog ! Viper ! Let me out ! Let me out ! 

Greenock. Let you out! I'll let you out, when my 
minions lead you to the Council Chamber, wheie we'll 
torture you till you pray for death. You tried to thwa^ 
me, did'nt you? I'll have every tooth pulled from yotir 
mouth with red-hot pincers. I'll have your nails torn 
from finger and toe, and then I'll have boiling oil poured 
on your head, one drop at a time until your soul leaps 
with joy from your cursed body. 

Annie. {Gaspingly.) What manner of man are 
you? Have you no soul? Have you no pity? Did you 
never know a mother's love, or a father's pride? If you 
believe in a God, in eternal punishment or happiness, turn 
your wrath from him to me. Let him be free, and take 
me, and do with me as you will. I will even try to like 
you, if you will but let poor Robert go forth a free man. 
{She faints on his arm.) 

Greenock. Ah ha, that brings you to your knees, 
proud beauty. {To Robert.) And you, baseborn bas- 
tard, I will crush your soul and body too. 

Robert. You cur ! I despise you ! Your threats 
have no terror for me. Dumbarton will be here to- 
morrow, and then I will be out of this, and I will seek 
you and find you, and if you harm one hair of her head, 
I will kill you — if the next moment be my last. 

Greenock. {Sneeringly.) You'll eat your words 
before night. But now I will take your turtle-dove to 
my carriage, and attend to you later. (Annie has par- 
tially recovered and is standing, half-dazed, supported by 
Greenock.) Wake up, Girl. {He shakes her roughly, 
and starts to half lead, half drag, her toward exit.) 

Robert. {Shaking the bars, and shouting wildly.) 
MacKay, MacKay, to the rescue. Your sword! Your 
sword! (MacKay rushes down the alley, followed by 



44 THREE PLAYS 

Hilda. MacKay and Greenock struggle. Annie falls 
into Hilda's arm. MacKay knocks Greenock down.) 

MacKay. {To Annie.) Fly at once with Hilda. 
The coach is at the head of the road. Leave me to deal 
with this brawler. 

[Annie and Hilda exeunt.] 

Greenock. {Rising and drawing his sword.) Let 
me pass, villain, I am a Lord of the Privy Council, and 
to draw on me is treason. 

MacKay. Were you the King himself, I would run 
you through for applying such an epithet to a gentleman 
of the house of MacKay. 

[ They cross swords, and after a few passes Greenock's 
sword is broken at the hilt, and he is slightly woun- 
ded on the wrist.] 

Greenock. {Who is now thoroughly sobered by the 
wound.) Not much; but hark you, we must enact this 
over again by daylight tomorrow. 

MacKay. Whenever your Lordship pleases! {They 
bow to each other and MacKay goes out.) 

Greenock. {Approaching the prison window.) Ah! 
Reid, you spawn, of the Covenant, I will settle with you 
now. {Shouts.) What ho ! varlet. Tammy. 

Macer. Coming, Sir. Yes, my Lord. {He enters.) 

Greenock. The Council is sitting now. Lead that 
dog before their Lordships. 

Robert. {Laughs triumphantly.) Ah! My Lord. 
My heart is light and joyous, and now I fear neither 
torture nor Council. I may die tomorrow, but today the 
world is mine, for Annie Laurie, the sweetest girl in 
Scotland, has given me her heart. 

curtain 



ANNIE LAURIE 45 



ACT III. 

Scene I. [Chamber of Privy Council. A long table sur- 
rounded by chairs for members of Council. Enter 
Macer and Sergeant Weymss.J 

Macer. Ay, mon, here is the great chamber itself, and 
the preacher and your brave soldier will stand at the bar 
there to answer with their lives in a few minutes. 

Sergeant. And, think you, Macer, that they will be 
put to torture? 

Macer. Ay, surely, mon, unless they confess. 

Sergeant. But Mr. Reid has already confessed. 

Macer. Hoot, mon, he has not told where the ladies 
are concealed. 

Sergeant. But the lad does not know. 

Macer. Wait till he gets a touch of the thumb-screws 
and boot ! When he hears his bones crack he will tell 
more than he ever knew before. See, here is the maiden's 
boot. We put this on and hammer home, one, two, tree, 
four, or more wedges like this (Shows), until the flesh 
is crushed and the bones crack. 

Sergeant. Damn the place ! Let me out or I'll stifle. 
(Exit.) 

Macer. (Chuckling.) He! He! He! Take care, Mr. 
Redcoat, or we'll fit the maiden's boot to that fat calf of 
yours. (Enter Lord Greenock from door up Right.) 
Your servant, my Lord. What can I do for you? The 
Council has adjourned for an hour, 

Greenock. Well, varlet, did you find Lord Mclntyre? 

Macer. Yes, your Lordship, he will be here in a 
minute. 

Greenock. And how is the mare ? 

Macer. Muckle the same, puir beastie. 

Greenock. I hope, knave, you gave her the warm 
mash, and bathed her nostrils and fetlocks. 



46 THREE PLAYS 

Macer. Without fail ! We maun ta' guid care o' her 
— the last o' a fine stud o' fifty. By my faith, when a 
mare has the wheeze, the staggers, and the spavin — 

Greenock. Has she all those? 

Macer. Has she indeed! And if ye had taken my 
advice a month since and burnt that auld witch, Elsie, the 
mare would have been sound, wind and limb, from that 
moment. 

Greenock. 'Sblood, Tammy, dost think the cantrips 
of the old hag have really bewitched my favorite nag? 

Macer. I'm no just ready to swear, my Lord, but it is 
unco' queer, that the puir beastie should fa' ill o' so many 
things just after auld Elsie jawed you for riding through 
her corn for a short cut. 

Greenock. {Angrily comes toward him.) By all the 
devils. Tammy, if I thought the bearded hag had caused 
the mare's illness, I would have her in the hands of the 
executioners today. (Tammy ruhs his hands in glee.) 
We had two hags before us yesterday, and we sentenced 
both to be burned at the stake. 

Macer. It's the only thing to do ! 

Greenock. One was sentenced for confessing witch- 
craft, and the other for refusing to confess it. 
[Enter Lord McIntyre.] 

McIntyre. Ou aye ! Ou aye ! He ! He ! Have her 
up before the Council as a full-blown case of sorcery. 
I have kent rack and screw bring mony a queer story 
to light — riding to Glascow on a broom-shank, — sailing 
to the cape in a milk-bowl, — raising a storm of wind by 
the agency of a black beetle. Oh ! we had a grand case 
of this kind in the northern courts last month. 

Macer. But the good old fashion of tar-barrehn' is 
clean going out these days. 

Greenock. Well, you'll see one shortly unless the 
mare gets better, and I capture the girl. 

McIntyre. (Chuckling.) And now, Greenock, what 
want ye me for so long before the Council meets? 



ANNIE LAURIE 47 

Greenock. I want your help, Maclntyre, in this busi- 
ness of the Lauries. 

McIntyre. {To Tammy.) Have you got a drink, 
lad? 

[Tammy pulls from his pocket a large flask, and un- 
screws the cup from the botton. Then he unscrews 
the top, fills the cup from the contents, and hands 
it to McIntyre.] 

Tammy. Eh! my Lord, I never travel without it. 
(McIntyre drinks all that is in the cup, and fills it again.) 

McIntyre. Leave the flask, Tammy, and stand out- 
side the door. See that there are no eavesdroppers. 
(Exit Tammy.) 

Greenock. I mean to make every effort to obtain 
their lands — and the girl to boot. 

McIntyre. She has a noble barony for a dowry. 

Greenock. Yes, I need the money, and I have long 
loved the girl. 

McIntyre. He ! He ! I have heard you say the same 
of others many a time before. But the lands, man — they 
will be forfeited to the King. 

Greenock. So were those of the Muirs of Caldwell. 
Yet Sir Thomas of Binns now holds them as a free gift 
from the Council. 

McIntyre. And he holds them fast, too. Weel, 
Greenock, perhaps we can manage the lands all right. 
Amongst ourselves, it's a case of "Scratch me, and I'll 
scratch you" ; and I have had my share of the pickings in 
lands and woods. 

Greenock. I must have the person of little Annie also. 

McIntyre. (Chuckling.) He! He! He! 

Greenock. I would give a thousand gold pieces — 

McIntyre. He! He! If you had them! 

Greenock. Crush me, yes ! To discover where the 
damsel is hiding. And this fellow, Reid, who has crossed 
me twice — let him look to it. My path must not be 
crossed by man nor devil. 



48 THREE PLAYS 

McIntyre. Nor must that of any Councillor while 
a death warrant can be had for the asking. 

Greenock. Right, my friend ; our laws are severe and 
they are written in blood. 

McIntyre. You have been a wild buckie in your day, 
my Lord, and when I think of a' the braw queens, gentle, 
and simple, that you have loved — and abandoned — I mar- 
vel that some sword of father or brother hath not slivered 
your gullet. How about your fair one in Merlin's Wynd? 

Greenock. Pshaw ! I tired of her long ago. 

McIntyre. And Lady Rosa? 

Greenock. By Jove, it's funny to hear you speak of 
a noble lady and a poor bona roba in the same breath. 
Rosa is beautiful, but poor and proud. Damn it, we 
would hate each other in a week. But I really think that 
Annie Laurie is capable of fixing all my wandering fan- 
cies for life. 

McIntyre. He ! He ! I have heard you say the same 
of fifty. But hath your coronet no attractions for the 
lassie? 

[Enter Tammy quietly.] 

Greenock. No ! It has no more value in the eyes of 
Annie Laurie than a peasant's bonnet. A thousand times 
have I endeavored to gain her notice, but she is colder 
to me than an icicle. But, fury! I was never crossed 
in my purpose yet, and I don't mean to be now. The 
girl must be mine. I would give a hundred crowns to 
get the right scent after her. 

Tammy. I can do it for half the money, my Lord. 

Greenock. The devil ! Are you listening, fellow ? 

Tammy. Fellow indeed! Troth! I was the best of 
good fellows when I received that crack on my crown 
which Claversee meant for your's, in that fight on the 
bridge. 

Greenock. True, Tammy, but I don't like to be over- 
heard in some matters. 

Tammy. (Spitefully.) And my Lady Eleanor often 
said to me you were over-rough and haughty e'en wi' her, 



ANNIE LAURIE 49 

my Lord; and even the bonny bairn she gave you didn't 
soften you much. 

Greenock. (Passionately.) A thousand curses, 
varlet, why speak of my dead wife and her lost boy! 
Her ashes lie peacefully in Paris, and you know the loss 
of the child maddens me even now when I think of it. 
Away with you, or the bottle will follow that. 

[He throws his hat at Tammy, who dodges and exits, 
then puts his head through the door.] 

Tammy. The boy may be alive. 

Greenock. Another word of that subject and I'll take 
your life. 

Tammy. Then, my Lord, ye dinna want to ken where 
the bonny lassie can be netted? I could catch her in ^ 
day. 

Greenock. Art sure of it? 

Tammy. My thumb on it! 

Greenock. Well, be brief. Tell me what you know 
of the matter. 

Tammy. That auld witch, Elsie, was nurse to Mis- 
tress Annie, and her mother before her, and if any auld 
witch in the Country knows where they are, she does. 

Greenock. Right, Tammy! I will have her dragged 
to the chamber tomorrow, if Reid is stubborn and fails 
to confess ; and if there is any truth in her tongue, I vow 
Pete Pincers will drag it from her. Take these, Tammy. 
(Offering him some coins.) As earnest of what I will 
give you if the scent holds good. 

Tammy. (Jauntily.) Keep your gowd, Greenock, 
for, faith ! you need it more than me. I hear the steps 
of the Lords of the Council, so, by your leave I will wait. 

[He goes out. Enter Lords of Council. They are 
greeted hy Lord Greenock and McIntyre, as they 
enter, and then take their seats. The Lord 
Chancelor takes the chair, and orders the Macer 
to bring in Ichabod, who is guarded hy the execu- 
tioner and his assistants, who wear leather aprons, 
and are dressed somewhat like blacksmiths. Icha- 



50 THREE PLAYS 

BOD is pale and trembling. Annie and maid come 
in to watch. They are disguised. Annie is dis- 
guised as a very old and feeble woman. ] 
Lord Chancellor. Macer, bring Ichabod Bounce 
before us. 

[Exit Macer, and returns with Ichabod guarded by 

two assistants.] 
Lord Chancellor. (To Ichabod.) You are charged 
with being a traitor to your country. What have you 
got to say? 

Ichabod. I am a citizen of Holland, and ye have no 
jurisdiction over my body. 
Macer. Silence ! 

Ichabod. (To Macer.) I will not keep silent ! (To 
Council.) I am a minister of the Covenanted Kirk 
licensed to preach the word of God. 

Lord Chancellor. Have you any documents on your 
person? Or do you know where any are hidden? 
Ichabod. I decline to say. 

Greenock. Do you deny that you are a subject of our 
Royal Master, King James? 

Ichabod. Well might I deny the land that produces 
such as thee. 

McIntyre. Away with him, and give him a touch of 
the boot ! 

[Ichabod is led out, and in a few m,om,ents red light 
flashes from the door out of which he was led. The 
creaking of chains is heard. Soon there is a terrific 
shriek, and the Macer, who sits guarding Robert, 
rubs his hands in glee. Deep groans succeed, and 
then the sound of hammers and the creaking of a 
block. Another shriek is heard, and then all is 
silence. The executioner and his assistants enter, 
carrying Ichabod between them. The spectators 
show signs of varied emotions, and Annie is 
terrified. ] 
Annie. (In disguised voice to Maid.) I'm afraid 
my poor strength will leave me ; the ordeal is too terrible. 



ANNIE LAURIE 51 

Maid. For God's sake, let us leave this place of 
horrors. 

Annie. Oh ! you sweet Mother of God, you know the 
weakness of my sex; give me some of your wisdom and 
strength to face this ordeal. 

Maid. Oh ! Good Lord, have pity on us. 
Annie. Oh ! Saviour of mankind, who died for the 
sake of poor mortals, give me strength to face this hour, 
and then take me from this wretched life. 

McIntyre. Take him out, and dash a bucket of cold 
water over him. 

[They go out with Ichabod, and return carrying him 
by the arms. He is groaning with pain, dripping 
with water, and unable to support himself.^ 
McIntyre. Now, varlet, will you speak? 
Ichabod. {Singing. ) 

I hear a voice from Heaven 
Commanding me to sing; 
Go forth and lead the godly host 
Against the bluidy King. 
{The Macer runs forward and strikes him on the 

mouth with his baton.] 
Macer. Will you confess? (Again Ichabod starts 
to sing.) 

Greenock. Take him out, and pull a few of his teeth. 
(They start to drag him, out.) 

Ichabod. Oh ! Spare me that punishment. I will 
confess anything, everything. 

Greenock. Have you any documents? 
Ichabod. Yes. 

Greenock. Where are they? 
Ichabod. Search my boot. 

[His boot is taken off, and ripped open by the Macer, 
who draws forth a paper. Lord McIntyre reads it 
silently. Ichabod turns to soldiers behind him,.] 
Ichabod. Art thou the son of Anti-Christ? 
Hubert. No, I am Hubert, the son of my father, John 
McGee, of Burghmure Road. 



52 THREE PLAYS 

IcHABOD. Then, in God's name, give me a drink of 
water, for I suffer the tortures of hell. 

Hubert. Here's some whiskey. 

[Hub. hands him a flask from his pocket and Ichabod 
drinks greedily.] 

Ichabod. It is the devil's invention — whiskey, but, ma 
certie, it tasted good, and gives new life to my puir body. 

[He drinks again, and gives flask hack to soldier who 
turns it upside down, with look of disappointment 
at finding it empty.] 

Ichabod. Heaven bless thee, soldier, and reward thee, 
for I cannot. Oh ! Why tarry the charriot-wheels of the 
Deliverer? {He is taken out.) 

Macer. Silence, dog! Or you will again taste the 
pincer. (Lord McIntyre finishes reading the paper.) 

McIntyre. Egad, my Lords, there is a perfect nest 
of treason — over a hundred names ; there will be many 
forfeitures on the strength of this. But let us consider 
the prisoner. 

Macer. Stand forward, Robert Reid. {Enter Ro- 
bert escorted by tzvo soldiers.) 

McIntyre. .Young man, you know for what you 
appear before us? 

Robert. My Lord, for allowing the escape of prison- 
ers placed under my charge. 

Greenock. Prisoners charged with treason and lea- 
guing with enemies of the State. 

McIntyre. And you plead guilty? 

Robert. I cannot deny it, my Lord. 

McIntyre. Weel, that saves us the trouble of exa- 
mining witnesses. 

General Dalziel. A fine beginning for a young sol- 
dier! But do you know the price of it? 

Robert. My life, perhaps. General. But may it 
please you, my Lords, to pardon this, my first offense, in 
consideration of my five years faithful — and as yet un- 
requited service. 



ANNIE LAURIE S3 

Greenock. (Sneeringly.) I doubt not that you were 
well paid for your untimely gallantry. 

Robert. You are a liar and a coward ! I have a soul 
above bribery, the brightest coronet in Scotland wouldn't 
tempt me to change sides as you and others here have 
done. 

Greenock. (Crosses toward him in a rage.) Silence, 
rascal ! and remember that in yonder room there is a 
bodkin of steel to bore such tongues as thine. 

Lord Chancellor. (Rises at back of table.) Enough 
of this ! Robert Reid, are you aware of where the ladies 
of Maxwelton are concealed? 

Robert. I decline to answer. 

Greenock. Disclose their hiding-place instantly, or, 
by all the devils, we will have the marrow pressed out of 
your bones. 

McIntyre. Has he been searched? 

Macer. Yes, my Lord, and we found nothing but a 
few shillings, a song or two, and the ring he wears even 
now upon his finger. 

Greenock. Surrender the ring, fellow ! 

Robert. Do with me as you please, my Lords, but 
spare the ring. It contains the secret of my life, and was 
found on the hand of my poor mother, when she lay 
dead in a cottage on the moor. 

McIntyre. Where did you get it? ' 

Robert. It was preserved, and restored to me by the 
noble Countess of Dumbarton when I marched south 
against Monmouth. 

Greenock. Macer, hand up the ring. His mother 
was some trooper's trull, and never owned a ring like that. 

[Macer approaches Robert, who becomes enraged and 
grasps a sword from a soldier.] 

Robert. Approach, and by the God above, I'll kill you. 

Claverhouse. Halt, sirs. (To Robert.) Put down 
your weapon, my lad. I admire your spirit. (Robert 
hands back the sword.) Let the lad keep his ring. But 



54 THREE PLAYS 

you (to Robert) must tell us, without further parley, 
where these fugitives are concealed. 

Robert. As a soldier, I beg of you not to press me, 
Colonel Graham, on that point. 

Claverhouse. I am here as a Councillor, not as a 
soldier. These ladies are charged with treason, and I 
insist on your answering our questions. 

Robert. You are known, Laird of Claversee, through 
the length and breadth of Scotland as a man of bravery. 
It is not the work of a soldier to drag two helpless women 
to a torture chamber. 

Greenock. Silence, dog! You are impudent! 

Robert. Colonel Graham — and you. General Dalziel, 
I appeal to you to protect these innocent ladies. Lord 
Greenock is using you to forward his own vile purposes. 
He wants Annie Laurie and her fortune for himself. 

McIntyre. This is too ridiculous ! Ring the bell for 
the executioner to give him a touch of the boot. 

Robert. My Lords, you may tear me to pieces, but 
I won't betray my friends. 

Claverhouse. Hush ! My lad. 

Greenock. (Takes step with back to audience.) 
Hear ye that, my Lords? He defies us. I demand that 
he be put to the torture. 

McIntyre and Others. Ay! the boot! 

Claverhouse. (Rises and turns to them.) My 
Lords, I protest ! 

McIntyre. Hoity, toity! Since when has the Laird 
of Claverhouse turned philanthropist. 

Claverhouse. Since the cold-blooded atrocities which 
I have witnessed in this chamber. 

[Enter executioner and assistants. Robert at first 
flinches, then braces himself.] 

Robert. If the noble Earl of Dumbarton, and my 
comrades of the musketeers, were in Edinburgh, you 
would not dare to disgrace me thus. I deny your 
authority. I am a soldier and I claim a court-martial. 

Dalziel. By God, I love thee, boy ! Thou art a brave 



ANNIE LAURIE 55 

lad, and the first man that ever bearded this Council 
board. 

McIntyre. But we will teach thee, braggart, that 
from this court there is no appeal — either to court or 
council of war. 

Robert. Yes, there is an appeal — to His Majesty the 
King. 

McIntyre. And of what value is that appeal, when 
your bones have been ground to powder by the irons. 

Greenock. Enough ! Take him to the chamber, and 
pinch off a few of his nails. 
McIntyre. That will do for a starter. 

[The Macer and Executioner grab Robert, and 
march him towards the door of the torture chamber. 
Annie steps forward. ] 

Annie. Stay, my Lords, I have valuable information 
in this case. 

Greenock. Who is this hag? Let her not interrupt 
the proceedings. 

Annie. (In disguised voice.) Eh ! but I know where 
the noble ladies are concealed, and if I can save the bonnie 
bairn, I will gie ye, my Lord , information that will please 
ye. 

Greenock. Do you mean what you say? 

Annie. Ay, my Lord, I ken where Annie Laurie is. 
And I will deliver her into your hands, if ye will promise 
to free the yong gentleman. 

Greenock. Seize her, Macer. (Macer starts for- 
ward, but at a signal from Claverhouse he stops.) Ha ! 
Ha! you witch, you have put your head in the lion's 
mouth. The varlet, yonder, will pay forfeit with his 
blood, and you will tell us all you know, whether you wish 
to or not. 

Annie. I defy you, my Lord, to make me speak, 
unless I want to. (She pretends to be very feeble.) I 
am on the brink of the grave, and one little turn of the 
screw will release my poor spirit, and put it out of your 
power to hurt me. 



56 THREE PLAYS 

McIntyre. The woman is right, Greenock. Speak 
up, Mother, tell us what you know about Annie Laurie 
and Lady Mary, and we will set you free, and gie you a 
braw shilling for your information. 

Annie. I don't want your shilling, my Lord 
McIntyre. You must promise to release the laddie 
there, and let him go free. 

McIntyre. We'll do it. Now, speak up. 

Annie. Your promise may be good, my Lord 
McIntyre, but I'll no speak a word, until Claverhouse and 
Dalziel pass their words to release the laddie. 

McIntyre. You miserable old witch! I'll have you 
tar-barreled for doubting my word ! 

Annie. There is nobody in Scotland who would take 
your word for a bawbee, my Lord McIntyre, but the 
words of Claverhouse and Dalziel are still as good as the 
King's. Speak up, my Lords; have I got your promise? 

Claverhouse and Dalziel. Yes ! Yes ! 

Lord Chancellor. Yes! Goon, speak! 

Annie. Not yet, my Lords. You must pay the price. 
Set him free. 

Claverhouse. (To guards.) Release the man. 
(Robert steps forward.) 

Robert. (Steps forward.) No. No! Good woman; 
let me go to the torture, do not betray my friends. If 
you love me for any reason, let me die, but spare those 
ladies the fate that is in store for them. 

Annie. You love them better than life, then? 

Robert. Ay, better than a thousand lives, because 
there is still eternity beyond, and our souls will meet there. 

Greenock. Come ! Come ! old hag, if you know where 
Annie Laurie is hiding, tell us at once; but mark you, 
the tar barrel is your fate if you have deceived us ; for 
you and that dog of a soldier shall remain here until 
Annie Laurie is dragged before us. 

Annie. (Throwing off her wig and cloak.) She is 
here! 

CURTAIN 



ANNIE LAURIE 57 



Scene II. 

[Same scene; fifteen minutes later. Rise of curtain 
discovers Greenock and McIntyre seated at table. ] 

McIntyre. Faith! My good Greenock, your pretty 
quarry will hardly escape the torture now. 

Greenock. Damn the luck ! I must save the girl and 
marry her to get the estates. 

McIntyre. Dalziel and the others will be glad of the 
chance to make you bend your proud neck, and beg hard 
for the favour. 

Greenock. Curse you ! Don't rub it in to me. I 
know that I am in a trap through the wench's crazy 
conduct. Why did she do it? 

McIntyre. Why do women ever do anything that 
men think foolish ? He ! He ! That's the rut that all 
philosophers think is easy — until they get a wife — and 
then they put the riddle in their puzzle corner with the 
perpetual-motion and squaring-the-circle problems. 

Greenock. Well, old friend, your presence of mind 
in adjourning the Council for half an hour after they 
were captured, was a great move, for it gave us a chance 
to think the situation over and form a plan of action. 
Damn it, I can't lose the girl and her fortune. 

McIntyre. The girl and half her fortune, my boy — 
the other half comes to me — ^or you'll have to fight your 
own battles. 

Greenock. (Impatiently rises.) Yes! Yes! you'll 
get your share — ^only help me to untangle this mess. 

McIntyre. (Rises.) Let us see what we can do with 
the lass herself. And you, my buckie, had better get rid 
of that frown, and try what you can do with a smile and 
a soft word. You used to be a devil with the ladies — 
gentle and simple. 



58 THREE PLAYS 

Greenock. All right. Call her in. 

McIntyre. Macer, bring Mistress Laurie here and 
leave her. 

Greenock. And call to us when any of my Lords 
come in sight. 

Macer. All right, my Lords. {He goes out and 
returns in a moment with Annie. Macer goes out.) 

Annie. Your pleasure, my lords, but I would prefer 
to be left in peace without, until the time of trial comes. 

McIntyre. The time is fast coming, young lady ; and 
we, as your best friends, are trying to find a way to save 
you. 

Annie. My best friends, indeed ! Your friendship is 
that of the hawk for the robin. Waste not your time 
with such words as those. If you have anything to say 
to me, speak truth. 

Greenock. Be reasonable, sweet Annie. Torture 
and death await you, if you are found guilty of con- 
cealing that confessed rebel. Bounce. I would save you 
— for I love you. 

Annie. We knew not that he was a traitor. I am 
a loyal and loving subject of King James. 

McIntyre. Fine talk, lass, but your Aunt's name was 
on his list, and the macer and soldiers heard him using 
traitorous and inflammable language in your house, and 
in your presence. 

Annie. They were but the ravings of a drunken loon. 

McIntyre. Enough of this talk! You'll be found 
guilty of treason within the hour, unless we help you — 
and you must pay the price. 

Annie. {Scornfully.) And the price to such as ye 
would be dishonor. 

Greenock. Damn me, Annie, I love you well, and 
will honor you by making you my wife. As the Countess 
of Greenock no one will dare accuse you. Come ! think 
of the torture. 

Annie. Ah ! my lords, with all your wisdom, you 



ANNIE LAURIE 59 

know not the heart of woman. The love of a true man 
would be a prize worth more to me than the coronet of 
a duchess or the crown of a queen. 

Greenock. But I love you madly, Annie. I nave 
long had my eye on you as the prettiest girl m all 
Scotland. 

Annie. Yes ! the eye of the eagle for its prey. You 
may put me to the torture or to death, but I'll go with a 
pure heart, and a body undefiled by the touch of a 
monster like you. 

Greenock. By my soul, you'll repent of this. I'll 
have the bones of your dainty _ feet crushed to a pulp 
unless you change your mind quickly. 
[Enter Macer.] 

Macer. My lords, the time of meeting is near and 
my Lord Chancellor is coming this way. 

[Enter some spectators who remain at the right, and 
Robert with a guard of soldiers.] 

Greenock. (Angrily.) Come, speak before it's too 
late. Consent to be my wife before the Council sits, or 
take the torture— and, by God, I'll recommend that you 
be burned at the stake as a witch. 

Robert. Ah, Annie! Consent to marry him — I can- 
not bear up, while thinking of you being slaughtered like 
a lamb. 

Annie. Robert, dear, you don't know what you 
advise; you can't mean it; your mind is unbalanced by 
your sufferings. 

Robert. Yes! Yes! I do. (Kneels.) See! On 
bended knee I beg of you to give him your promise. 

Annie. No ! Robert, friend of my youth, I would not 
be worthy one thought in the mind of an honest man, if 
I should consent, through fear, to sell myself to that vile 
monster. (To Greenock.) Oh! I detest and despise 
you, and would rather become the slave of the executioner 
who is to crush my poor bones, than to marry you. 

Greenock. (Takes a step forward and strikes Annie 



6o THREE PLAYS 

with his glove in the face. She falls against table.) 
You huzzy ! I'll bring you to your knees yet ! 

[Robert utters a cry of rage, and breaks from the 
guards. He springs forward, and grasps Greenock 
by the throat, carries him to the ground, and almost 
strangles him. He is dragged off by the guard just 
as the lords enter and take their seats at the table.] 

Lord Chancellor. Order! Order! My Lords; please 
be seated. 

[A bugle call, the marching of men and galloping of 
horses are heard outside.] 

Dalziel. {Goes to window and looks out.) By my 
faith, 'tis the Greys and the Guards. There's Dumbarton 
dismounting. 

Lord Chancellor. {To Dalziel.) Please be seated, 
General. {Another bugle call.) This business is too 
serious to bear further delay. We must make an 
example of this fellow and his sweetheart, or our 
authority is at an end. 

McIntyre. Yes! Yes! take them out together, and 
scarify her face with a hot iron to spoil her beauty; and 
as for him, cut off his hands just for a start off; that 
will keep him from striking his superiors. 

[Robert and Annie are being dragged toward the exit, 
when Dumbarton enters followed by his staff.] 

Greenock. Damnation. 

McIntyre. This puts a new phase on the case. 

Dumbarton. My Lords and gentlemen, I bring you 
greetings from His Most Gracious Majesty, the King. 
{All rise and bow.) And I am pleased to arrive at a 
moment when your business seems to be of such great 
importance. 

Claverhouse. You are welcome, Dumbarton. 

Dalziel. I am glad to see you. General. 

Greenock. The Council has voted on this matter, 
Executioner, do your duty at once, 



ANNIE LAURIE 6i 

Robert. My Lord Dumbarton ! 

[Dumbarton turns, and on recognizing Robert walks 
to him, takes his hand and leads him forward.] 

Dumbarton. Hullo, Robert, my lad, what does this 
mean? 

Robert. I am sentenced to the torture for striking 
Lord Greenock. 

Greenock. Yes ! curse him ! He attacked me in the 
presence of the Council, and nothing but his life will 
satisfy my honor. 

Dumbarton. (Turns to them sarcastically.) Your 
honor, my Lord? But Reid is one of my best soldiers, 
and he has a cool head. There must have been a good 
reason. What was it, boy? 

Robert. It was in defense of a lady. Not one of my 
regiment, from Colonel to the last- joined recruit, but 
would have done the same. 

Dumbarton. Well spoken, my lad, although not too 
wisely. Who was the lady. 

Annie. Your little friend, Annie Laurie. 

Dumbarton. (Taking both her hands.) You here, 
too! Why, His Majesty sent a special message of regard 
to you, and the Queen sent her love, and bade me tell 
you she has picked out a noble husband for you. ( To the 
Council.) Gentlemen, there must be some mistake. 

McIntyre. There is no mistake, my Lord. A spy 
and traitor was captured in the Lauries' house, and he 
has confessed and given up a treasonable document which 
is signed by a hundred of our people, petitioning William 
of Orange to invade the country, and promising him 
support. Lady Mary is amongst the signers. The other 
prisoner (indicating Robert) has confessed to allowing 
prisoners to escape, and he has attacked a Councillor here 
in this room. Torture is too easy for both of them. 

Dumbarton. I will answer for both of them, and I 
demand that their cases be postponed, until His Majesty's 
return to Scotland. 

Greenock. And I object! 



62 THREE PLAYS. 

McIntyre. So do I ! 

Dumbarton. Then I demand that the question be put 
to the vote formally. 

Lord Chancellor. Very well ! General Dalziel, what 
is your vote? 

Dalziel. I vote for postponement. 

McIntyre. I vote that they both be tortured at once. 

Greenock. So do L 

Claverhouse. I vote for postponement, 

Dumbarton. So do L 

Campbell. I vote for torture. 

Lord Chancellor. There is a tie vote, and I vote for 
immediate torture. Executioner, do your duty. 
[Robert and Annie are again seized.] 

Dumbarton. My Lords and gentlemen, I beg of you 
to reconsider. Robert Reid is now an officer in my regi- 
ment. I have brought his commission back from the 
King as a surprise to him, and alas! how do I find him? 
His comrades, who are under arms in the Square without, 
are waiting to see his commission presented to him. 
Those fifteen hundred men are strong in love and hate, 
and I will not be responsible for their actions if you put 
this indignity on their officer, whom they love so well. 

Annie. My Lords, you will not dare outrage a King's 
officer. He is under military law, and entitled to be tried 
by court-martial. 

McIntyre. How will that save you, girl? 

Annie. I care not what you do with me, only get it 
over quickly. 

Robert. The lady is innocent, my Lords, as ye well 
know ; and, by the Lord, she'll not be harmed to satisfy 
the lust of that scoundrel. 

[He snatches a sword from the Guard.] 

Greenock. Neither your sword, nor your commission, 
will save you from our vengeance. Seize him. Guards ! 

Robert. Dumbarton, stand by me, for the love of the 
old regiment. 

Dumbarton. {Draws his sword. His staff do the 



ANNIE LAURIE 63 

same. Staff Officers fall in behind Dumbarton and 
Robert with swords at "Ready.") Ay, my lad, to the 
death ! My lords, your action is illegal, and I will defend 
my views. 

Greenock. Even your Lordship will find it hard to 
escape punishment for this defiance. At them, varlets ! 
(Draws his sword and pushes soldiers aside.) 

Annie. (Rushes to window and shouts.) Soldiers 
of the Guards ! To the rescue ! Your officers are in 
danger. (Shouts from without are heard.) 

McIntyre. (To Greenock. )Be calm, Greenock! 
If these devils are turned loose, they will pull the place 
about our ears, and tear us to pieces. I know them. 

Annie. Hear ye, my lords ! Fifteen hundred brave 
soldiers are within reach of my voice. They have fought 
and bled too, with Dumbarton and Reid. Shall I tell 
them you are going to torture their General? 

McIntyre. Come away from the window, lassie, we 
will talk it over. 

Annie. You have talked enough, you old spider! 
Release us unconditionally and at once, or I'll call to the 
troops. Without there, Douglas — Captain McCleod, do 
you know me? 

Voices. (From without.) Yes! Yes! fair Annie. 
What is the matter? Do you want us in there? 

Annie Yes, my friends. When I call, come quickly, 
and come for blood. Well, my lords, shall I invite my 
friends to enter? 

Dalziel. McIntyre, and you, Greenock, your lives are 
not worth a bawbee if those fellows come here, and find 
out what you've been up to. Gad ! they'll give you a taste 
of the torture you've been meting out every day to those 
poor wretches. 

McIntyre. You have influence with them, Dalziel, 
and you, Claverhouse, send them to their barracks. 

Dumbarton. They'll take orders from no one but me. 
And they are waiting to see their comrade presented on 
parade with his new commission. 



64 THREE PLAYS 

Annie. Come, my Lords ! Time is up ! Will you 
change your vote? 

McIntyre. Under the circumstances, I move that we 
reconsider and adjourn. 

Campbell. I second the motion ! Let the case go to 
court martial. (All except Greenock say "Ay! Ay!") 

Greenock. Damnation! I will take a terrible ven- 
geance for this. 

Robert. The Council is now adjourned, my Lord 
Greenock, and as an officer of the Guards, I take pleasure 
in handing you this. 

[He strikes Greenock on the face. Greenock draws 
and they cross swords. Dumbarton strikes down 
their swords.] 

Dumbarton. {Between Robert and Greenock.) 
Gentlemen, this in its proper time and place. 

Greenock. I cannot challenge him ! He is a low-bom 
bastard. 

Robert. (Strikes him again.) You coward! I'll 
make you fight. 

Greenock. Be it so I Til meet you in the morning. 

Robert. And in the morning, my Lord Greenock, I 
will kill you. 

curtain 



ANNIE LAURIE 65 



ACT IV. 

[Interior of Greenock's Castle, three months later. 
Lighted fire at left. Greenock is sitting at a table. 
He fills a tankard and drinks.] 

Greenock. Ah ! The wine tastes good tonight, and 
my blood is hot. (Calls.) Margaret! (£;t^^r Margaret 
at Left, haggard, half insane, aged about forty. She 
comes down to fire.) Any sign of the chair, wench? I 
am boihng with impatience. 

Margaret. I mind me when ye boiled with impatience 
for my coming. But it was ever so with you — a frown 
and a curse for the old, and a longing for a new face. 

Greenock. Keep quiet, hag! 

Margaret. Yes, I am a hag nov/, but once you praised 
my beauty and longed for my caresses. Ay ! Ay ! I've 
seen many a fair face in this room — even puir Lady 
Eleanor, whom I hated. And now she lies in the cold 
ground, and the bairn — your living image. 

Greenock. Curse your vile tongue. I'll have it 
pulled out some day if you let it wag so much. 

Margaret. There is little in the past to be proud of, 
but the boy may be living. 

Greenock. How know you that? 

Margaret. I saw him with Jessie, my lady's maid. 
She had just landed from the French boat, and was hiding 
in Mag Anderson's cottage near the bay. But when I 
went after dusk to see her, she was dead, and the bairn 
was gone. 

Greenock. Wretch! Why have you kept this know- 
ledge from me for twenty years? 

Margaret. F faith, my lord, I wanted to keep your 
mind off the mother and child. 

Greenock. (Aside.) Can this old kite be the crea- 
ture I once loved? But I need her services. (Aloud.) 



66 THREE PLAYS 

Come ! Come ! Margaret, old girl, all you want now is 
gold, and I have precious little of that. But if you are 
faithful, the gold will soon come in bushels. 

Margaret. Ha! Have you got somebody for me to 
poison? Or some sweet flower to be plucked from its 
stem, to be trampled under foot when its perfume is 
extracted ? 

Greenock. {Strikes the table with his fist, angrily.) 
Hark ye, Margaret, thou knowest me well, I think. 

Margaret. Oh ! Would to heaven that I had never 
known thee! I know little of thee that is good! 

Greenock. {With a scowl.) What know ye that is 
bad, old Barebones? I am one — 

Margaret. Who never spared a man in his hatred, 
nor a woman in his lust, a renegade Covenanter, a relent- 
less persecutor of the pious, a perjured lover, a faithless 
husband and a false friend — Alexander Greenock, thou 
art a fiend — thou art the devil in man's form. 

Greenock. Ha ! Ha ! Witch, and I know thee for one 
whom the tar-barrel and thumbscrews await; and if you 
prove false to me, I doubt not but that my learned friend, 
Mclntyre, will easily find the devil's mark on your yellow 
hide. 

[Margaret turns round, and pulls aside a curtain, 
disclosing a picture of Lady Eleanor. '\ 

Margaret. Have you no shame ! nor even fear — that 
the spirit of this woman will strangle you? 

Greenock. {Huskily.) Cover it! God's sake, cover 
it ! Cover those eyes ! Cover it, I say, or I'll split your 
head with my sword. (Margaret pulls hack the curtain.) 
Begone to the north tower, and announce to me when the 
chair is at the gate. 

[Exit Margaret. Steps are heard, then knock at the 
gate. Margaret comes hack. ] 

Margaret. There are some bearers without, carrying 
a sedan. 

Greenock. {Triumphantly,) She is mine at last. 
Now, Master Reid, I have the odds on thee. Nor Gods, 



ANNIE LAURIE 67 

nor devil, can save her from me now. {To Margaret.) 
Admit them, woman, and lead the lady to the bridal- 
chamber. 

[Greenock goes out right and Margaret left. After 
a moment, Margaret re-enters, followed by Tammy 
and his assistants, hearing the sedan chair. Tammy 
eyes Margaret with some fear.] 

Tammy. Good day to ye, gommer. 

Margaret. Good day, ye gowk! And 'twill soon be 
goodnight for ye. See ! (In a half-scream, pointing 
through the window.) The light that dances in yonder 
hollow! (Tammy and the others show signs of great 
fear. ) See, (Screamingly) 'tis a corpse candle! Ah, 
fool ! the day isn't far off when one will be dancing in 
the grass over your grave. 

Tammy. (Terribly frightened.) Jock, and ye others, 
I ta' ye to witness that she fortells my death. 'Tis malice 
and sorcery and I shall hale ye (to Margaret) before 
the Council, and send ye to the fires of eternity over a 
tar-barrel. 

Margaret. Ye'll never live to see it, gommeral, your 
days are counted now. Tremble, wretch! (Tammy yells. 
Lord Greenock enters.) 

Greenock. ( To Margaret. ) What mummery is this ? 
Silence, woman, lest I strangle thee! Begone! (Mar- 
garet m,oves away. Greenock approaches the sedan.) 
Fair Annie, my beloved, you will pardon this trick, for 
which the excess of my love can be the only — the best 
excuse. My love, you have known it long, dear girl, and 
too long have you slighted it. But, on bended knee, I 
beseech thee to pardon me. Annie, dearest Annie. Come 
to my protecting and loving arms. 

[Annie is lifted out unconscious with bandage round 
her mouth. Tammy and hearer exeunt with chair. 
Annie is put on chair Left of table.] 

Margaret. Poor bairn! With all your beauty and 
youth I don't envy you now. 



68 THREE PLAYS 

Greenock. Silence, wretch ! Use your wits to bring 
her to Hfe. 

[Margaret gives Annie wine and chafes her hands 
and head. Enter Tammy.] 

Tammy. We'll need your protection, my Lord! I'm 
thinking- my old lady is more than half-killed. 

Greenock. What? You old fool, didn't you know 
enough to avoid violence? 

Tammy. Avoid violence, indeed? You told me to 
bring you the girl, if I had to swim through blood, and 
now you have her you make light of my services. 

[Margaret comes round hack of table to Left of 
Annie.] 

Greenock. No, no. Tammy, you're all right, and I'll 
reward you ; but the old lady has influence with the new 
King in London. What did ye do to her. 

Tammy. We surrounded the chair as planned, and a 
couple of cracks on the pate, put the chair-men to sleep, 
but the ladies clung to each other, and the old lady got 
a crack on the head as she was dragged from the chair. 
We left her there on the road, and travelled full speed 
for home. 

Greenock. (Throzvs purse.) Here, give something 
to those fellows, and warn them if they value their 
tongues to keep their mouths shut tight. Begone! (Exit 
Tammy.) 

Mararet. She's coming to, and you'd better go out 
until she regains her strength somewhat. 

Greenock. I'm dying with impatience. Don't keep 
me waiting if you value my friendship. 

Margaret. Pouff! (Exit Greenock.) 

Annie. What has happened? Where am I? Ah, I 
remember, we were attacked by robbers. Where's 
Auntie? Is she safe? 

Margaret. She's safe enough ! Take another drink. 

Annie. No, no, I'm well now. Where am I? To 
whom do I owe my rescue? 

Margaret. To Lord Greenock. This is his Castle. 



ANNIE LAURIE 69 

Annie. Oh, dear God, this is worse than death. 
{Struggles to her feet.) Let me get away from here, 
before he sees me, 

Margaret. 'Tis too late for that, he has seen you. 
His servant abducted you, and you will remain here as 
a prisoner, until you become his wife or worse. 

Annie. Oh, what a horrible fate! Oh, Robert, my 
Robert, come to me and save me. {To Margaret.) You 
will help me {takes hold of her amis.) You look- like 
a good woman. Help me to get away from here, and I'll 
be your friend for life. Do you want riches? I will 
give them to you — gold, houses, jewels^ — only get me away 
from here before that horrible man comes back. 

Margaret. {Putting Annie away from her.) I'm 
sorry for you, girl. I thought my heart was dead, but 
your grief stirs me here. {Puts her hand to heart.) I'd 
help you if I could, but neither God nor devil can get you 
out of the clutches of Greenock, until he is ready to let 
you go. 

Annie. Oh, Robert, why did you go far away to the 
Southland? Come back, my love, or I am lost. {Enter 
Greenock. ) 

Greenock. Lost indeed ! You've only just been 
found, sweet Annie, and I will teach you more of love in 
a day than that beardless beggar could imagine in a year. 

Annie. My Lord, you will be punished for this 
outrage. How dare you treat me in this way? 

Greenock. {Laughingly.) Dare? 'Tis the sweetest 
dare I've ever dared in all my daring days. You know 
not the power of your beauty. 

Margaret. And your wealth. 

Greenock. Begone, hag, another word, and I'll have 
your tongue cut out. {Exit Margaret, scowling.) 

Annie. {To Margaret.) Oh, don't go — don't leave 
me alone. {Follows her.) 

Greenock. Mistress Laurie, you are completely in my 
power, and must do my will. But I will marry you. I'll 
give up my wild ways, and be a model to the new Court. 



70 THREE PLAYS 

Annie. I am betrothed to another man, and I can 
never love anyone else, and I hate you. Oh, my Lord, 
why did you pick on me, who never did you any wrong? 
If it is my wealth you want, take it — take it all — but 
spare me. I value my love above all the treasures of the 
world. 

Greenock. Your love is in the grave, girl. Do you 
not know that King William's troops are everywhere 
victorious, and the Stuarts are scattered and on the run. 

Annie. But Robert lives, I heard it a month ago. 

Greenock. He lived a month ago, but since then 
every regiment in King James' army has gone over bag 
and baggage to William of Orange except the Scots 
Greys and the first Scottish Musketeers to which he be- 
longed, and they have been surrounded by the Dutch and 
slaughtered like sheep. 

Annie. 'Tis false! I won't believe it! They are 
true to their colors when all others were faithless. Such 
heroes are a match for the whole Dutch army, and they 
will yet march into Edinburgh to replace the true King 
on the throne. {Enter McIntyre.) 

McIntyre. What's this I hear? It sounds like treas- 
on to King Wilham. 

Annie. So you will read it, my Lord. You were 
King James's Lord Chief Justice three months ago, and 
an ardent Roman Catholic ; today King James is down, 
and you are Chancellor to King William, and your morn- 
ing prayer is "God save King Wilham." Next month 
when the Stuarts drive their enemies into the seas, I 
have no doubt you'll be a candidate for a bishopric. 

McIntyre. Silence, wench, I'll — I'll — {Walks toward 
Annie.) 

Greenock. {Laughingly.) Ho there, Margaret. 
{Enter Margaret.) Show my lady to her chamber, and 
don't let her out of your sight for a moment. 

Margaret. Come, my lady and rest a while. {Exeunt 
Margaret and Annie.) Begad, Greenock, she hit you 
hard, old crony. 



ANNIE LAURIE 71 

McIntyre. Damn the girl, she took my breath away, 
but as she's to be my Lady Greenock, I suppose I must 
forget and forgive. Has she consented? 

Greenock. Not yet, but she will before to-morrow. 

McIntyre. Weel, Greenock, me buckie, you have 
been after her long enough and it's time ye were making 
an impression on her. 

Greenock. Yes, my plan to abduct her has proved 
successful, but, curse the jade! she is as obstinate as a 
mule. 

McIntyre. I have asked that fule, Ichabod, who is 
now in high favor, to come here, and show her the error 
of her ways. 

Greenock. And I have bribed that minx, Hilda, to aid 
me with the jade. 

McIntyre. He ! He ! Now that Hilda has thrown over 
MacKay and married Craigdarroch, I suppose she is 
anxious to make her friend faithless too. (Enter 
Tammy.) 

Tammy. A spy from the South was captured near the 
gate, my Lord. 

McIntyre. Did ye search him? 

Tammy. Yes, my Lord, and we found these papers — ■ 
but not a single bawbee. 

Greenock. (Gives them to McIntyre.) Put them 
on the table and begone. (Exit Tammy.) 

McIntyre. (Opens package, and takes out two let- 
ters.) Eh, there's nothing of importance here — a letter 
for Lady Dumbarton. (He opens it.) Just a love line 
from her Lord. And one to Mistress Hilda Lovat — from 
that gallant MacKay, credulous fule, to trust a woman's 
faith! He wasn't gone a month when she married his 
rival. 

Greenock. (Looking over his shoulder.) Hold, a 
thought strikes me! The hand is easy to imitate. You 
are a handy scribe, McIntyre — write a few lines telling 
of Reid's marriage to some airy-fairy camp follower. 

McIntyre. (Rubbing his hands gleefully.) Excellent! 



72 THREE PLAYS 

Excellent idea! I will do it and take it myself to the 
fair Hilda. {He goes out.) 

Greenock. {Calling after him.) Hold, Mclntyre, I 
will be with you. {Bangs on table. Enter Margaret.) 
Inform Mistress Annie that this is to be her abiding place 
until she comes to her senses. You're to admit no one 
on peril of death, except the mad preacher. Bounce, and 
Lady Hilda Craigdarroch, who will be here presently. 
{He shouts.) Tammy! {Enter Tammy.) You will 
allow nobody to enter the Castle except Lady Craig- 
darroch, and the mad preacher, Bounce. {To Mar- 
garet.) Inform Mistress Annie that I will be here again 
within an hour. {From the door to Margaret.) Can 
you not find a love-philtre to give the girl? {He goes 
out. Exit Margaret, scowling.) 

Tammy. What's in the jade that she refuses a master 
that any lady in the land might be proud to love? I' 
faith, women are past my comprehension. {He goes out. 
Enter Annie and Margaret.) 

Margaret. Will you not sup. Madam? 

Annie. Sup? Oh, no. 

Margaret. Try, my lady — a little milk and wine. 
(Annie cnV.y.) Still weeping? 'Twas so with me once, 
but I shall never weep again, till I wring tears of blood 
from my betrayer. 

Annie. You frighten me. Please bring me a light, 
and I will retire. A night under his roof ! Ah, God, I 
shall go mad ! How can such wickedness exist? Is there 
no one to help me? 

Margaret. Might is right now ! The army is scat- 
tered in the South, and the rabble rules the city. This 
Castle is as close as a prison, until my Lord releases you. 

Annie. Oh, I wish I could die! Let me go to my 
room and be alone. 

Margaret. This is your room, my Lady. But here 
is a visitor. {Enter Tammy, who announces the Rev- 
erend IcHABOD Bounce. Exit Margaret.) 



ANNIE LAURIE 73 

Annie. Oh, Mr. Bounce, I am so glad to see you. 
Cannot you get me out of this hell? 

IcHABOD. Hell is the portion of the wicked, and I 
fear me ye are too great a sinner, young woman, to touch 
my hand. 

Annie. (Drawing back.) What mean you, sir? 
, ICHABOD. I mean that you are living in sin and shame 
— living openly in the house of this ungodly Lord, and 
unless ye marry him forthwith, I will read ye from the 
pulpit of the Kirk on the very next Sabbath, and give 
your shame to the nation. 

Annie. (Sits down and sobs.) O God, is there no 
pity amongst the living? 

IcHABOD. Ay, pity there is, but ye must repent ye of 
your sins. 

Annie. (Standing up and speaking angrily.) Begone, 
wretched man, caricature of a minister of the gospel ! 
Such as you think and talk too much of hell and punish- 
ment, and too little of the good in life. Begone from my 
presence, and let me not see your face again. Even the 
monster who dragged me to this house is preferable to 
you. 

IcHABOD. Hoity-toity, as if the Earl of Greenock were 
not good enough for ye. Mark me, ye'll beg of him to 
make an honest woman of ye yet. 

[Annie picks up a pike and Ichabod runs out. She 
drops the pike and throws herself on the couch. 
Enter Hilda.] 

Hilda. (Embraces Annie.) Still weeping, Annie 
dear. I am so sorry to find you in this predicament. 

Annie. Oh, Hilda, I am so pleased to see you ! 
Cannot you help me to escape? 

Hilda. Escape is impossible, girl. Greenock is all- 
powerful in Edinburgh today. 

Annie. Oh, if Robert were here. 

Hilda. Robert, indeed! Bosh, Annie, that gallant 
never loved you! Or he would not have gone off with 
the troops and left you alone. 



74 THREE PLAYS 

Annie. Oh horrors! This insinuation is the most 
unkind of all ! The contumely and shame which Green- 
ock has brought upon me I can bear — for I despise them, 
though I mourn them deeply. But a doubt of Robert's 
love — it sinks like a dagger in my heart. It was the 
spirit of truth and love with which he left me that makes 
me rise superior to all this trouble. 

Hilda. But Greenock loves you truly! 

Annie. Do you think he loves me as Robert does? 
Do you think he knows what love means? Oh no, his 
passion is a turbulent phantasy inflamed by rivalry and 
opposition, and sharpened by wounded pride. Oh ! How 
can you forget the horrible mystery that involves the fate 
of his wife and child. {She sits on chair and weeps.) 

Hilda. Pooh ! They died in France. 

Annie. Her heart was broken. 

Hilda. All gossip, my dear. Hearts are never broken 
except in the pages of a romance. As for me, I think 
there is something really noble about Lord Greenock. 

Annie. Noble? 

Hilda. Yes ! And do not his wit and elegance and 
his courage excite the admiration of every woman in the 
city? 

Annie. (Rises.) Yes! But I cannot forget what a 
scoundrel lies beneath the mask of that prepossessing 
exterior. 

Hilda. Annie dear, I have but one more argument — 
and that is, that your fair fame requires marriage. 

Annie. Never! Oh never! 

Hilda. Listen to this, my girl ! 'Tis a letter which 
I have just received from my old flame, MacKay. 
(Reads.) "Mine own sweet Hilda, I write surrounded 
by the Dutch troops of William of Orange with the 
dead and dying strewing the earth around. But believe 
me, that the heart of your poor MacKay in suffering and 
danger, poverty, and exile, is still unchanged, my beloved 
Hilda, and is thine for ever. My ancient signet-ring, the 
last relic of the house of MacKay, I have bartered 



ANNIE LAURIE 75 

yesterday for a loaf of bread, and now I have nothing 
left but a lock of thine hair which shall go with me to the 
grave. But more glorious by far are our Jacobite rags 
than the gay uniforms and decorations which we might 
have worn under the usurper, William of Orange. Our 
old friend, Robert Reid, is well and sends his complements 
to you. Farewell, my gentle Hilda, and may God bless 
thee. MacKay, Captain of the Royal Scots Musketeers." 
(Ends.) My poor light-hearted Richard, would to 
Heaven I could lessen your miseries. 

Annie. Oh, Hilda, how they must suffer — my darling 
Robert and poor MacKay. 

Hilda. Gossip, tease me not, but listen to this post 
scriptum. (Reads.) "It will grieve you much to hear 
that Robert Reid has broken his plighted troth to your 
friend, Annie Laurie, and has married a camp follower 
of bad repute." (Ends.) 

Annie. Oh God! The cup of my sorrow is full to 
overflowing! Again, read it again, Hilda. 

Hilda. Not for worlds ! If Craigdarroch heard that 
I had a letter from my former lover he would be crazy. 
To the flames with it. (She throws it in the fire.) 

Annie. A camp follower of bad repute ! It is false 
— imposible! MacKay hath lied! But, yet^my throat 
is parched and scorching. Give me water! (Hilda fills 
wine cup, and presses it to her lips.) 

Hilda. Bear up, dearie, the man is not worth a 
thought. 

Annie. Oh Robert! Robert! God may forgive you 
this cruelty — I never can. (Enter Greenock, followed 
by McIntyre and Ichabod.) 

Greenock. How now, fair Annie, what grieves thee 
so cruelly? 

Annie. (Rises.) Leave me, all of you, for God's 
sake! 

Greenock. But won't you let me share your sorrow, 
whatever it may be? I love you truly and well. 

Annie. Oh ! I'll do anything — ^^but let me away from 



y(i THREE PLAYS 

here ! Let me see the old home once more — let me bury 
myself in its embrace. 

Hilda. You are a fool, Annie — you cannot leave here 
with a good name except as the wife of Greenock. 
(Exit.') 

Annie. {Madly.) Oh yes! I will marry you now 
this moment ! 

IcHABOD. {Searching in his pocket.) I hae lost my 
bible— I must hae left it in the kitchen. I will be back 
in a minute. {Exit.) 

Greenock. {Triumphantly.) At last you're mine. 
{Takes Annie in his arms and tries to kis her. She 
screams madly and strikes him in his face.) 
Annie. Help, Hilda, Help. 

Greenock. Damn the wench, she's crazy — but I'll 
punish her for this. (Annie rushes to the door, hut is 
dragged hack by Lord Greenock.) 

Annie. {Breaks away from, him, rushes to the 
zvindow and shrieks. ) Help ! Help ! Will no one save 
me? 

[A shout is heard outside and loud rapppig at the gate. 

The men rush from, the room in alarm and Robert's 

voice is heard. ^ 

Robert. Open the doors, or we will blow the lock oflf. 

Greenock. {Outside.) Begone, rascal ! Or I'll hang 

thee at the gates. 

[A volley of musketry is heard and troopers sing 

"Annie Laurie." The door is heard to fall, in rushes 

Robert, driving Lord Greenock and McIntyre, 

Tammy and Ichabod he fore him. He is followed 

hy a score of troopers of the Scots Greys. A trooper 

disarms Greenock who falls down. Robert runs 

to Annie, who holds out her hands to keep him hack 

after fight. ] 

Robert. Confusion ! What means this ? Oh, Annie ! 

Is this the welcome I expected! (Annie averts her face 

and sohs.) Look at me, adorable Annie. {He stretches 

his hands toward her. Annie trembles and sohs.) Look 



ANNIE LAURIE 77 

at me, beloved one. Dirty and crumpled as I am, and 
though another holds your heart, you cannot have for- 
gotten me, and learnt to view me with aversion. If this 
false lord has won your heart — 

Annie. Oh! Say not that, Robert! Say not that. 
But how could you have forgotten me so soon? I was 
faithful and true, and yet you forsook me for another. 
To God I appeal. {^She raises her clasped hands and 
streaming eyes.) Kneeling, I appeal, if ever, in word of 
thought, I swerved from thee, until the tidings of thy 
marriage broke my poor heart. (Enter Margaret.) 

Robert. Heaven preserve my senses ! The devil 
himself must have been at work ! We have been de- 
ceived by some deep laid plot. Oh ! how could you have 
mistrusted me, Annie ? 

Annie. But you married a camp follower — I saw it 
myself in MacKay's letter to Hilda. 

Robert. 'Tis a foul lie — I am as free as air. 

[Annie throws herself into his arms. Greenock 
starts forward with uplifted hand, but just as he 
cuts at Robert an officer runs him through. He falls 
on couch.] 

Greenock. Ah ! Ha ! The game is lost ; and as this 
blood oozes out, the last of the race of Greenock departs. 

Margaret. 'Tis not so, Alexander Greenock. As 
bonnie and brave a man as you were, and a thousand 
times more honest, lives to uphold the title, and win back 
honor to the name. 

Greenock. What mean you, witch? 

Margaret. Let me have Master Reid's ring. Mistress 
Annie — fear not, lady, it will be returned. 

[She takes the ring which Robert had given to Annie, 
and hands it to Lord Greenock, who presses a 
spring. ] 

Greenock. Oh! 'Tis my wife's, Eleanor's. Where 
did you get this, Reid? 

Robert. 'Tis my mother's — 'her dying and only gift 
to me. 



78 THREE PLAYS 

Margaret. There is your son and heir, and you can 
do no better than to wish him a happier and better Ufe 
than you have had. 

Greenock. Eleanor! Wife! Forgive me! God 
have mercy! {He falls hack and rolls on floor.) 

Annie. How came you on the scene so handily? 

Robert. These brave fellows are Dundee's troop of 
horse — the last remnant of the gallant army which 
marched south so bravely. We were passing the gate, 
when I heard my darling's cry. And now they march 
for the Highlands, to make a last stand for King James 
and the honor of Scotland. 



CURTAIN 



THE CONSPIRATORS 
A Drama in Four Acts 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 

[First production, Sept. 4, 1905, Park Theatre, Boston] 

Edward Waters, a lawyer Edward R. Mawson 

Robert Caine, his secretary Lionel Adams 

Joe Leavitt, formerly Joe Levi, an engraver 

Russell Bassett 

Jack Rich, a young philosopher A. L. Jarett 

Dora Morris, a society girl with a genius for penmanship 

Margaret Pitt 

Mrs. Morris, her mother Alma E. Lewis 

Helen Lord, another society girl Eleanor Elkins 

Policeman /. Carrol 

Butler at Water's L. A. Doss 

Attendant at Leavitt's John Martin 



ACT I. 

[Mr. Waters's library, Boston. Early spring. Caine is 
writing at desk Right. Bell rings.] 

Caine. {Throws down pen and looks up.) I'm sick 
of this eternal drudgery, and unless luck turns, I'll do 
something desperate to make a good haul. 
[Enter Servant from Left.] 

Servant. A gentleman wishes to see you, sir. 
{Hands card.) 

Caine. Leavitt. The devil! {To Servant.) Show 
him up. 

[Exit Servant.] 
Hang hirh, why does he come here to see me ! 

[Enter Leavitt following Servant. Latter exit.] 

Leavitt. Ah ! my dear boy, I'm glad to find you in. 
{They shake hands.) 

Caine. {Sulkily. Rises to shake hands, and sits 
down again.) How d'ye do, Leavitt, but why do you 
come here? You know that I'm walking on thin ice. 
If Waters suspected I was a bit of a sport he'd quickly 
dispense with my services. 

Leavitt. Why should he suspect anything because I 
call? My character is irreproachable. Am I not Presi- 
dent of a Chinatown Sunday School and Secretary of 
the mission to Porto Rico? 

Caine. {Rises and goes close to Leavitt.) Yes, and 
President of the Universal Engraving Company with {In 
a loud whisper.) an occasional deal in banknotes on the 
side. 

Leavitt. {Puts his hand over Caine's mouth.) Sh! 
you blamed idiot ! 

8i 



82 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. (With a laugh.) Don't get scared, old top! 
This room is built to prevent eavesdroppers, as Waters 
and his clients meet here for many a big deal, which not 
even I can get a line on until it's worked out on the street. 

Leavitt. (Angrily.) Don't do it — it makes me 
nervous. 

Caine. Cut the jawing, and come to business. I 
expect Mr. Waters back any minute, and he mustn't find 
you here. ( The telephone rings. He goes to it. ) Hello ! 
Yes, sir. (Pause.) Very nearly finished the rough draft. 
(Pause.) In half an hour — all right, sir. (Hangs up 
receiver..) 

Leavitt. Is that Waters ? 

Caine. Yes, he'll be here in half an hour, and I've got 
some work to do, so hurry up and get out. 
Leavitt. (Examining envelope on desk.) First tell me 
who addressed this envelope. 

Caine. Oh, that! Miss Morris, daughter of old 
Morris of the Washington Bank. She's a wonder with a 
pen. 

Leavitt. Yes, a wonder. As an engraver, this caught 
my eye. 

Caine. (Laughs as he zvalks to desk.) Yes, it's like 
copper-plate. What do you think of this? (Takes en- 
velope from his desk and hands it to Leavitt.) 

Leavitt. (Reads.) Edward Waters Esq., Com- 
monwealth Avenue, Boston. (Caine hands him a check 
■from a number on the desk.) Same handwriting. 

Caine. Look again — ^you're an expert. 

Leavitt. (Examining closely.) Dash it, man, the 
name, Edward Waters, is exactly the same in both cases. 

Caine. You're wrong! Waters signed the check, 
and Miss Morris wrote the address for fun. 

Leavitt. (Examining with a magnifying glass from 
the table. ) Phew ! She's a genius ! I wish I could get 
her. 

Caine. (Puts envelope, etc., hack on desk.) Rot, 



THE CONSPIRATORS 83 

man! Waters is dead gone on her, and she'll probably 
be his wife before the leaves begin to fall. 

Leavitt. What a pity such talent should be wasted! 
Why don't you make a bid for her yourself? 

Caine. (Bitterly.) I've tried to make a hit with her, 
but what chance have I against the rich and famous 
philanthropist, Edward Waters? She's a beauty, too, 
and I'd marry her if she couldn't write her own name. 

Leavitt. (Sits down.) It's a pity, but never say die. 

Caine. Forget it! Now come to business. 

Leavitt. (Looking at watch.) Well, Jones and I 
have a deal on, and we want you to come in for a bit — a 
thousand will do. 

Caine. I can't do it ! I'm nearly five thousand behind 
now, and I'll have to say goodbye to Boston before July 
first, unless something turns up. 

Leavitt. How's that? 

Caine. You dear innocent! You know darned well 
I lost more money since Christmas than my salary for 
two years would make up. 

Leavitt. Well ? 

Caine. Well, I just borrowed a few "bearer" bonds 
from the vault, which will be missed when the governor 
goes to cut his coupons on July first. 

Leavitt. Don't worry! There's plenty of time to 
make good before then. Why can't you borrow a few 
more of those "bearer" bonds? 

Caine. No go ! There's nothing there at present that 
could be sold quickly without risk. 

Leavitt. I'm sorry you're out of this, Caine, it's 
surely a good thing. (Rises.) Goodbye. (Telephone 
rings. ) 

Caine. (Goes to telephone.) Yes, Mr. Rich, I rec- 
ognise your voice. (Pause. ) Not home yet, sir. (Pause. ) 
I don' t quite catch what you say. (Pause.) Pearls. 
Wait until you come. Mrs. and Miss Morris and Miss 
Lord. All right, sir. (Hangs up receiver.) 



84 THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt. {On hearing the word "pearls" has turned 
back from the door.) Is that Waters? 

Caine. No, that's his chum, Rich. He's bringing his 
famous pearis here after the show. 

Leavitt. Bring his pearls here? 

Caine. Yes. 

Leavitt. How's that? 

Caine. His fiancee wore the necklace to the show. 
He wants Waters to put it in his safe until tomorrow, 
and then deposit it in the vaults. 

Leavitt. Why doesn't he do it himself? 

Caine. He sails for Europe in the morning, and 
Waters is his trustee. The necklace is said to be worth 
$5o,ocx). 

Leavitt. Jerusalem ! What a prize ! Can't we get it 
tonight? We must, man. That's your chance to get 
square ! 

Caine. No ! No ! Too much risk. 

Leavitt. No risk at all ! Leave it to me. I'll come 
back, and be in the street — drop them out of the window. 
(Points.) 

Caine. (Angrily.) It can't be done! (Pauses.) 
And even if we got them, we couldn't get rid of them. 

Leavitt. Leave that to your Uncle Joe. I'll give you 
$5000 now if you promise to drop the necklace into the 
street. That'll be your share. I'll take the risk of dis- 
posing of the pearls one by one. 

Caine. (Hesitatingly.) Well, if I see a safe chance, 
I may take it. 

Leavitt. (Takes out pockethook and check-hook. 
Sits at table. ) Here's a thousand, and ( Writes in check- 
hook) here are four checks for a thousand each, the first 
dated tomorrow, and three days apart for the others. 
Goodbye. (Goes toward door.) Here, take my glove 
(a large gauntlet) put them in that when you get a 
chance, and drop them through the window — I'll be there. 
(Exit.) 

Caine. It's an awful risk — and I won't do it. Damn 



THE CONSPIRATORS 85 

Leavitt, he'll get me hanged yet, unless I'm careful. 
(Goes back to desk and writes.) Oh! this poverty and 
drudgery! Will it never end? 

[Enter Edward Waters.] 

Waters. Hello, Caine, not finished yet? 

Caine. (Stands up.) Not quite, sir; it will only take 
a few minutes. 

Waters. You're not looking well, Caine — working 
too hard. You must take a few weeks' vacation in the 
woods. 

Caine. Oh, I'm all right, thank you, sir — just a head- 
ache. 

Waters. Well, don't do any more this afternoon, we'll 
finish it in the morning. Tell Smith to call me at seven — 
I must be at the pier at eight to see Mr. Rich off. 

Caine. (Goes to door, stops, and comes back.) Oh, 
pardon me, I was nearly forgetting. Mr. Rich is coming 
here to see you. He wants to leave his pearls. 

Waters. His pearls ! 

Caine. Yes, sir. 

Waters. What on earth is Jack doing with his grand- 
mother's pearls at this time of day? (Laughing.) You 
don't mean to say that he has been wearing them? 

Caine. (Laughing.) No, sir, but Miss Lord has. 
He told me to say that Mrs. and Miss Morris were also 
in his party, and that he would try to bring them all in to 
call on you as they passed, and to be sure and have some 
dinner ready. 

Waters. (Delightedly.) What a nerve he has ! Run 
along, Caine, and see what can be done with the cook, 
and tell Smith to get up a bottle of '74 from the cellar, 

Caine. (Goes to door.) And he said that Miss 
Morris told him to say that unless the dinner was good, 
there'd be a riot in the house. (Exit.) 

Waters. (Laughing.) Oh, what a dear, sweet, 
clever little girl she is ! (Sighs.) Ah ! if she would only 
care for a dusty old bachelor hke me what a difference 
it would make in my life. (Enter Caine.) 



86 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. There are a few letters, sir. 

[Hands letters to Waters.] 

Waters. (Opens one.) Ah! one from your prede- 
cessor, Caine. 

Caine. (At desk.) Yes, sir. He was a thief, sir, 
wasn't he? 

Waters. Yes. Read it aloud. 

[Hands letter to Caine, who steps down by table.] 

Caine. (Reads.). "Dear Sir: Knowing your good 
heart and broad mind, I write without apology. I want 
your assistance to enable me to live. I have been out 
of prison nearly a year, and, owing to the fact that my 
prison record keeps cropping up against me, I cannot get 
permanent work. I have had eight situations since I left 
the prison, but each time, my employer, in some way, 
found out my past, and dismissed me without a word. 
I can get no references, and the police of New York and 
Boston have arrested me three times, as a suspect, without 
any reason; and, after causing me to lose two hard-won 
places, warned me to leave those cities. That was my 
compensation ! True, I have been a criminal and a con- 
vict! I stole $5000 from you — but I paid the penalty 
for my crime, and it is unfair for society to hound me 
down. I have had my lesson, and I have tried, before 
God and man, to avoid breaking the law. I am now 
desperate, and unless you help me to get work — honest 
work — I will choose crime as my profession, and live 
on or off society which has refused to give me a chance 
to exist. Yours respectfully, John Mooney." 

Waters. Well, Caine? 

Caine. Very impertinent, I should say. Shall I send 
it to the police? 

Waters. Get your book, and take this letter. (Caine 
gets dictation book from desk. Sits at desk. Waters 
dictates.) To all whom it may concern. The bearer, 
John Merchant — 

Caine. John Mooney, sir. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 87 

Waters. John Merchant — he will need a new name to 
hide his past record. Go on. 

Caine. Yes, sir. 

Waters. — was in my employ for six years as confi- 
dential clerk and secretary. He left my service to take 
up work for the government as his health was not suited 
to office work. 

Caine. Ah ha, that's a good joke, sir, and serve him 
right for his nerve. 

Waters. (Smiling.) 'Twas no joke for him, poor 
devil. (Continues dictating.) I strongly recommend 
him to anyone wanting a good shipping-clerk, or for other 
similar work, and I am ready at any time to give bond 
for his honesty and good behaviour to the extent of $1000. 
Sincerely — 

Caine. By Jove, that is good of you ! 

Waters. Not at all, Caine. I believe the man has 
been punished enough for his mistake, and that he should 
get a good chance. 

Caine. But a man or woman who sins once, will sin 
more easily the second time. 

Waters. I don't agree with you altogether. Most 
people prefer to be honest, and lots of them are driven 
to wrong by environment and force of circumstances, 
and if the same circumstances were applied to some of 
ourselves, we, too, would go down as before the waters 
of Niagara. What virtue can I claim for being honest? 
I have never felt the want of anything in my life. Why 
should you claim superior virtue to the beggar who 
hungers for bread, and craves for a glass of beer outside 
the door of the saloon? Your week's salary would buy 
the whole stock of the baker, or enough beer to swim in. 

Caine. But men who are rich and prosperous some- 
times steal, and wealthy ladies are sometimes shoplifters. 

Waters. (With a smile.) Kleptomaniacs, Caine. 

Caine. Well, kleptomaniacs. Doesn't that upset your 
theory ? 

Waters. No, it strengthens it. When one hungers 



88 THREE PLAYS 

for a luxury — for something that is really unnecessary 
to life or happiness — it is a state of a diseased mind — a 
morbid condition that should be treated by an alienist 
in a sanitarium, rather than by the club of a policeman 
and the shame of the police court. For instance, if you 
were to covet the bonds and stocks in my safe (Caine 
starts and grips the table for support. ) you would in time 
lose your self-control, and might be tempted to steal my 
property. 

Caine. Never, sir! 

Waters. Well, you're a purist, and won't be argued 
round, but I'm going to help Mooney just the same. 
Write to him. 

Caine. Yes, sir. 

Waters. (Dictating.) I enclose my check for $50 
and a recommendation, which I hope will help you to get 
another job under a new name and to hold it. With 
best wishes, I am, Yours truly. 

Caine. Right, sir. 

Waters. Make out a check, and I will sign it in the 
morning. 

[Enter Servant.] 

Servant. (Announces.) Mrs. and Miss Morris, 
Miss Lord, and Mr. Rich. 

[Enter as above. Exit Servant. All shake hands 
ivith Waters and bow to Caine.] 

Jack. Well, old duffer, you missed a treat by not 
accepting my invitation this afternoon. 

Waters. (To Dora.) Why didn't you let me know 
who were to be in your party? 

Dora. Ah ! that was to be a surprise, and we expected 
you till almiost the end. 

[Mrs. Morris sits down.] 

Waters. I had an important meeting to attend, but 
I certainly should have broken it up, if I had known you 
were to be there. 

Jack. We had a bully time. 

Helen. And Jack was the centre of attraction. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 89 

Jack. Yes, the ladies were the attraction, and I was 
in the centre. 

Dora. But Mr. Waters is so busy — we oughtn't to 
stay any longer. Come, Mother, let us be going. 

[She turns to Mrs. Morris, who rises and sits down 
again. ] 

Waters. No, no,, please don't go yet; Caine has or- 
dered some dinner. 

Jack. Not on your life ! We're going to remain, and 
keep old stay-at-home up till three in the morning. 

Helen. Make it six, and then we can go straight to 
the boat and see you off. 

Dora. Then we should be the centre of attraction in 
these dresses. 

Waters. And sleepy eyes. 

Helen. And grandmother's pearls. 

Jack. Oh, the pearls, by Jove ! My dear old grand- 
dam will turn over in her grave ! Her last injunction was 
that they were never to be worn until my wife should 
place them round her neck. 

Waters. (Laughing.) And weren't you afraid to 
break her injunction? 

Dora. Helen gave him no peace until she had worn 
them. 

Jack. Well, she'll be my wife in June — so soon that 
the old lady won't know the difference. Don't they say 
that three months there is only like the fraction of a 
second here? 

Helen. Oh dear, I hope it won't bring bad luck! 
I'm sorry I've had them now. 

Waters. (Joins Dora at piano.) I'm deeply sorry 
I missed being with you this afternoon. 

Dora. So are we — all of us. Mother was dozing 
most of the time, and Jack and Helen had thoughts for 
no one but themselves. 

Waters. What a donkey Jack is! Why didn't he 
tell me? He called me up at noon, and said he was 
getting a crowd together for lunch and the show. 



90 THREE PLAYS 

Dora. (Laughing.) And you didn't appreciate 
spending three or four hours with one of Jack's 
"crowds"? 

Waters. Three or four hours ! Why, my dear girl, 
eight or ten hours would be more nearly the time. I've 
been through it once or twice! 

Dora. Well, next time, you'll know better. 

Waters. (With a grimace.) Next time I may accept, 
and find myself with a crowd of young bloods, from 
whom it will be impossible to get away before daylight. 

Dora. (Laughingly.) But a little relaxation would 
do you good! Is it well to take life too seriously? 

Waters. Life is serious — a thinking person can't 
forget that for very long. 

Dora. I tried to joke Papa to come to the theatre with 
us last night, and he nearly took my head off at first, and 
then he broke down and actually sobbed. His health 
worries us, and we can't get him to take a vacation. 
Surely that kind of life isn't desirable? 

Waters. The money-market is very unsettled, and his 
bank is loaned up heavily. His duties as president are 
very trying. 

Dora. (As they leave piano.) He is a slave! I 
would rather be poor than lead a life like his. He never 
forgets his business, and poor Mother is almost a wreck 
too, from worrying about him. 

Mrs. Morris. Mr. Caine, won't you get me a glass 
of water? 

Caine. Certainly, Mrs. Morris. (Exits.) 

Waters. (Who has heard, to Dora.) Perhaps you 
would like something to drink? 

Dora. Thank you, a little milk and soda, if it's not 
too much trouble. 

Waters. Let's go to the dining-room. 

[Exeunt Mrs. Morris, Dora, Waters and Caine. 
Jack leaves window to follow.] 

Helen. Where are you going, Jack? 

Jack. Oh, I'm going to follow the crowd — come along. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 91 

Helen. I don't want to follow the crowd — I prefer to 
stay here. 

Jack. But don't you want something to drink? 

[Laughter is heard from dining-room. Jack makes a 
step or two towards exit.] 

Helen. (Peevishly.) Jack, come here ! We haven't 
had a moment together since Saturday. 

Jack. Why, you dear, sweet little goose, we've been 
together since noontime. 

Helen. (Poutingly, sits at piano.) Yes, in a crowd! 

Jack. (Goes to her, puts his arm round her waist, and 
takes her hand. She does not respond.) But, my 
dearest, you don't call Mrs. Morris and Dora a crowd? 

Helen. Yes, I do, and you spoilt the whole afternoon 
for me by inviting them. 

Jack. Why, good gracious, I believe you're jealous! 

Helen. (Pulls away from him.) I have nothing to 
be jealous of! Jealous, indeed! 

Jack. Of course not ! It's too funny ! 

Helen. Yes I have, too ! It isn't at all funny ! You 
and Dora gabbled away all the afternoon, and I might 
have been in the moon for all the attention you paid me. 

Jack. Now, Helen, do be sensible ! You know I love 
you better than any one else in the world or I wouldn't 
want to marry you. (He puts his arm round her waist, 
and she snuggles up to him.) But, I've known Dora 
since we were kiddies together, and, after you, she's the 
best woman friend I have. 

Helen. (Breaks away from him, and stamps her 
foot.) Go away from me! I believe you love her, and 
not me, and I hate her. 

Jack. Helen ! Sweetheart ! Do be calm ! They will 
hear you ! 

Helen. I don't care who hears me ! 

Jack. (Seriously.) Helen dear, this grieves me more 
than I can say. 

Helen. Well, you oughtn't to let her flirt with you. 



92 THREE PLAYS 

Jack. {Takes her arm.) I hear them returning. It 
would never do for them to see you like this. 

Helen. {Snappishly from door.) I don't care what 
happens. 

[Exit, followed by Jack, who shrugs his shoulders, 
and looks at the ceiling with an expression of puzzled 
despair. Enter Caine. ] 

Caine. Not a chance to put my fingers on the pearls. 
{Goes to window.) Ah! there's Leavitt, under a tree 
watching every shadow like a hawk. But I may as well 
send him back his checks, because there's no chance of 
bagging the game tonight without taking a risk. {Shakes 
fist towards the window. ) Ah, Leavitt, you dog, you and 
poverty make a team that will haul me to wealth — or the 
penetentiary. 

[Goes down to piano with hand to head. Enter Dora 
and Waters.] 

Dora. {To Caine.) How tired you look, Mr. Caine. 
Are you feeling unwell? 

Caine. Oh no, not at all. Miss Morris — just a slight 
headache. 

Waters. Lm afraid you're overworking, Caine, and 
I must insist you take a long vacation soon. 

Caine. To work hard for you is a pleasure, Mr. 
Waters. 

Waters. Thank you, Caine. And now, won't you 
join Mrs. Morris — I'm afraid she's alone in the dining- 
room. {Exit Caine.) 

Dora. {Sits on sofa.) Your secretary seems a 
treasure. 

Waters. Yes, a thoroughly good fellow, hard-work- 
ing, conscientious, and with unusual ability. 

Dora. You're lucky to have such a faithful servant. 

Waters. {With a sigh.) Yes, I suppose I am a 
lucky fellow. I have everything in the world I could 
wish for — 

Dora. {Questioningly.) Yes? 

Waters. Yes, — except my heart's desire. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 93 

Dora. Your heart's desire? And that is — ? 
, Waters. And that is a woman's love — the woman's 
love. Ah, Dora, if I could only find heart to tell you 
how I sit here in these big rooms, dreaming and wishing, 
and dreaming again of what might be were the shadows 
of life lightened by the magic touch of a loving hand. 

Dora. If your dream is of a real mortal, and not of 
a poetic ideal, she should be happy. 

Waters. (Stands over her, makes movement as if to 
brace himself to take her hand and embrace her.) Do 
you think an old duffer of my staid habits could really 
make a beautiful girl, who has been used to admiration 
and adulation, happy? 

' Dora. To a true woman, admiration and adulation 
are like the leaves of an oak, which are forgotten with 
the season that bred them. But the love of the man she 
loves is like the trunk of the tree, which spreads its roots 
far into Mother Earth, and grows in solidity and strength 
with each advancing year. 

[Waters takes a step towards her with out-stretched 
arms and beaming face, but is interrupted by the 
entrance of Helen and Jack. Waters makes a 
movement of anger, and frowns at Jack. Dora 
walks towards Helen.] 

Jack. Hello, old chap, what's the matter? Aren't you 
feeling well? 

Waters. {Impatiently.) Oh, yes, yes. 

Jack. But you look sick ! Let me get you a brandy 
and soda. 

Waters. Say, old chap, I'll punch your head off if 
you don't get out of here for ten minutes — and take 
Helen with you. Now, don't stop to argue with me, but 
get out. I've got to talk over important business with 
Miss Morris. 

Jack. {Whistles and winks.) Oh, I'm wise to the 
game! Just watch me! Say, Helen, come into the 



94 THREE PLAYS 

dining-room, I want to show you all the pots Waters won 
when he was at Harvard. 

[Enter Caine. Goes to desk.] 

Helen. Oh, I've seen them a hundred times ! I'd 
much rather you took me home. 

Jack. But we've come to stay to dinner. 

Waters. Oh, yes, you mustn't think of going till after 
dinner. 

[Enter Mrs. Morris.] 

Dora. And don't forget to leave the pearls, Helen. 
You can't have them till you're married, you know. 

Helen. Oh yes, I know all about that ! I wish I had 
never worn them. 

[Takes necklace off, and throws it on table.] 

Waters. They're beauties and worth a queen's ran- 
som, but they are neither too rare nor too beautiful for 
Miss Lord. 

Helen. (Smiling.) There, Jack, that's the way to 
frame and pay a compliment. 

Dora. (Takes pearls in her hand.) They are fasci- 
nating — ^beautiful, and have a value far beyond their 
intrinsic worth. I would be almost tempted to steal them 
if it were safe. 

Jack. Your beauty, Dora, needs no ornament to en- 
hance it. Their beauty grows dim and their contour 
uneven, beside the natural beauty of your throat. 

Waters. Bravo, Jack! Helen ought to take back 
what she said. 

[Waters pairs with Mrs. Morris and Jack with 
Helen. Dora places necklace on table and goes to 
piano. Caine takes necklace and slips it in the 
glove, walks to window and drops glove out. Tele- 
phone rings. CAi¥iE answers.] 

Caine. Hold the wire. (Goes to Dora and speaks in 
a low voice.) Some one at your house wishes to speak 
to you, Miss Morris, and asked me to say that you must 
brace up, and prepare for a slight shock. 

Dora. Mercy on me, what can the matter be? (Goes 



THE CONSPIRATORS 95 

to telephone.) Hello, yes, Dr. Smith. (Pause.) Yes, 
tell me quickly. Doctor. (Pause.) Oh, dear, poor 
Mother. (Staggers and Caine supports her. Hands her 
glass of water, which she drinks. To Caine.) You 
speak to him, and tell him I am coming at once. 

Caine. (At telephone.) She is coming at once. 
(Hangs up receiver. To Dora.) Be brave. Miss Morris. 
Can I do anything? 

Dora. Yes, help me to slip away quietly, and tell Mr. 
Waters my father is ill — dying. I will send the carriage 
back for mother. 

Caine. Go this wav — it will attract less attention. 
(Dora exit.) 

Jack. (At end of tune.) Good girl, you're a treasure. 
I just love that tune. But where's the dinner, old 
skinflint ? 

Waters. We'll go to the dining-room and see what 
we can get. 

Mrs. Morris. Where's Dora? 

Waters. She was here a moment ago. 

Helen. (Looking about.) And where's the ncklace? 

Jack. Oh, old Waters has put that away safe enough. 
Let us go to dinner. 

Waters. You're mistaken, man, I haven't got the 
necklace. You must have put it in your pocket. 

Jack. Oh, jolly rot, I haven't seen it for an hour. 
But, it's all right. We'll get it after dinner. 

Waters. Better find it now. Have you seen it, 
Caine ? 

Caine. Yes, in Miss Morris's hand a few minutes ago. 

Mrs. Morris. But where has Dora gone to? 

Caine. She has gone home, Mrs. Morris. 

Helen. There's the carriage starting now. Call her 
back, it may get lost. (Rushes to window.) James! 
James ! He doesn't hear me ! Oh, please, some of you 
men, come and shout or whistle. 

Jack Anything to please you, but what's the use of 
spoiling dinner with this fuss ? ( Whistles loudly with his 



96 THREE PLAYS 

fingers.) Ay what! Wasn't that a good one? I thought 
I'd forgotten how to do the trick. 

Helen. The carriage has stopped. Now, Jack, shout 
for him to return. 

Jack. {Shouting.) Hello, there, come back a minute. 

Helen. It's coming back. 

[All gather about the window, except Caine.] 

Jack. I say, Dora, don't run away with my bally 
necklace — or the old grand dame will come out and spank 
me. 

Dora. {Outside.) I haven't got it. 

Jack. What, really? I wonder where it is! {Feels 
in his pockets. All do the same.) 

Helen. But, you must have it, Dora ! Please see if 
you haven't put it in your pocket by mistake. Nobody 
here has it and it can't be found. 

Dora. I placed it on the table — I remember distinctly, 
and I haven't seen it since. Look on the floor — it must 
have fallen under the table. 

[Jack looks under table. Caine pretends to look 
about the piano. '[ 

Mrs. Morris. This is terrible! Come back, Dora 
dear. Why do you wish to hurry away like this? 

Dora. I'm not well. Mother, and I must get home at 
once. I will send the carriage back. 

Helen. But the necklace ! You can't go until it is 
found, Dora. 

Jack. Oh, keep still, Helen. Let it go — we'll find it 
all right. 

Caine. {Aside to Waters.) I think I saw Miss 
Morris slip the necklace in the front of her dress. She 
must have forgotten. 

Waters. Damn you, shut up! (Caine shrugs his 
shoulders.) Please come back. Miss Dora. We must 
clear up this mystery at once. 

Dora. Great Heavens, I'll lose my mind ! Don't you 
know that it is important that I get home at once? 

Waters. Really, Miss Morris, I must ask that you 



THE CONSPIRATORS 97 

come back at once. I must ask you to help us find the 
pearls. 

Dora. Oh, is there no pity? I will come up. {Enters 
in a minute.) 

Jack. {To Waters.) I don't understand this busi- 
ness, old chap, but I'm sure the ladies know nothing about 
it. Can't we send them home, and take time to think it 
over? 

Waters. No Jack, it's better to face the trouble. It 
will be easier to solve the riddle now than tomorrow. 
{Enter Dora.) 

Helen. {Who is semi-hysterical.) Oh, Dora, how 
could you. 

Dora. In God's name, find your pearls, and let me 
go home. 

Mrs. Morris. My poor girlie, what does it all mean? 
Why did you want to run away ? 

Dora. Don't ask me now. Mother. Let us find the 
necklace so that I can go home. 

Helen. Find it? Why don't you find it? You have 
hidden it! 

Jack. Keep still, Helen! We'll find it all right, and 
even if we don't, it doesn't matter — there are lots more 
where it came from. 

Helen. I won't keep still, Jack Rich — I'll speak my 
mind. Dora has the necklace and she wanted to run 
home with it, and I'll never speak to her again — there! 
(Jack leads her to corner near window, where she sobs.) 

Dora. This is outrageous ! I know nothing about the 
necklace! Please find it, Mr. Waters and let me get 
away. 

Waters. We have searched everywhere and it can- 
not be found. 

Dora. But, surely you don't think that I have taken 
it? {Breaks down.) Oh, Mother, take me home. 
{Braces up.) Speak, sir, do you think I am a thief? 

Waters. No — hardly that — but — you see — 

Dora. Yes, I see ! You don't want to believe it, but 



98 THREE PLAYS 

the evidence convicts me without trial. Why don't you 
send for the pohce? 

Waters. Please be reasonable! I am one of your 
oldest friends — a friend of your father. 

Dora. (Crying.) Oh, my poor father! He, also, is 
a thief. 

[Newsboys are heard crying "Extra"] 

Waters. Please be calm. No doubt you can explain 
everything. 

Dora. Oh, my poor father ! Let me go home. 

Helen. H you are innocent, why are you so anxious 
to go home? 

[Newsboys call "Extra, extra, suicide of John Morris."] 

Dora. There's the story. (Mrs. Morris faints.) 

Jack. {Runs to window, brings back paper, and 
reads.) John Morris commits suicide in his office. 
Leaves letter confessing defalcation of over a million. 
Bank will not open tomorrow. {To Dora.) Come, Dora, 
I will help you to the carriage. Waters, help Mrs. 
Morris. {To Helen.) Helen, not another word of 
this, or we part for ever. 

CURTAIN 



THE CONSPIRATORS 99 

ACT II. 

Scene I. 

{Office of the Universal Engraving Company. One 
month later. Leavitt at desk. Enter Clerk who 
announces "Mr. Caine".] 

Leavitt. {Writing.) Tell him to come in. 
[Enter Caine. They shake hands.] 
Well, Caine, what can I do for you today? 

Caine. You can lend me $1000. 

Leavitt. (Jokingly.) I can- — but I won't. I never 
saw such a man as you — you're always wanting money. 

Caine. Yes, and I always shall want it. And, in this 
case, I must get it, old man. 

Leavitt. Must get it? Well, I like that! What did 
you do with the $5000 I gave you a month ago? 

Caine. Well, I played the market with it up and 
down with varying luck, but, fortunately, I've got most of 
it left. But I need $5000 immediately, and I'm a thou- 
sand short. 

Leavitt. Well, you may go home again, my boy, for 
you can't get a cent from me. I paid you your full share 
of that rake-off. 

Caine. My full share. Why, you must have made 
$50,000 out of those pearls. 

Leavitt. (Throws up his hands.) So easy! Why, 
my boy, I didn't make more than $15,000. I had to 
scatter those stones in ones and twos from London to 
California, and I had to take any price I could get, in 
order to make a quick sale and avoid suspicion. 

Caine. Well, I'll show you the way to pull off some- 
thing better than that soon, but I must have a couple of 
thousand dollars now. 



loo THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt. Oh, a couple of thousand ! I thought it was 
a thousand a few minutes ago. 

Caine. Well, it was, and it'll be three thousand in ten 
minutes if you don't give up before then. 

Leavitt. (Puts Caine in chair and sits down him- 
self.) Here, have a smoke. Sit down, my boy. You 
must have something great if I am to judge by the way 
you make money so quick. 

Caine. (Takes cigar and lights it.) Remember, Joe, 
three thousand at the end of this cigar. 

Leavitt. My, my, go ahead and talk quickly. 

Caine. Well, I told you I borrowed $5000 in bonds 
from the safe, and unless they are replaced in a few 
weeks, Waters will miss them, as the coupons are payable 
on July first. 

Leavitt. Well, my boy, Fm sory for you, but that 
isn't my funeral. Why don't you save your money? 

Caine. (Savagely.) Cut the preaching, Leavitt, or 
I'll hand you something you don't want. I'm in no 
temper to listen to platitudes. 

Leavitt. All right ! Keep your face smooth ! But, 
why should I worry about this? 

Caine. (In a whisper.) Well, Joe, I've got a scheme 
that will net us a large sum — perhaps a million or more, 

Leavitt. A million or more ! It sounds good ! Like 
a dream! Let me see your arm! (Looks at Caine's 
forearm. ) 

Caine. (Smiles.) No dope, Uncle Joe. I was never 
more awake in my life. And, what's more, we'll get it 
without risk. 

Leavitt. Tell it to me, quick. 

Caine. Waters is running some big deals, and it is 
nothing unusual for him to carry large amounts in bonds 
and negotiable stocks in his safe. 

Leavitt. Yes, yes, go on ! I can see where we might 
be able to get them, but I can't see where we could sell 
them without risk. 

Caine. Waters is engineering a bi^ deal in London, 



THE CONSPIRATORS loi 

and he will probably close it in a few weeks. He has 
agreed to put up a million of United States Steel bonds 
to guarantee the deal. 

Leavitt. a million ! Yes, yes, go on. 

Caine. We must make counterfeits, and substitute 
them for the genuine bonds. The forgery won't be dis- 
covered till coupon day, 

Leavitt. By Judas, it's a great scheme, a great 
scheme, my boy ! It takes my breath away ! 

Caine. I wish it would! The world would be 
sweeter without it ! 

Leavitt. Don't be foolish ! I couldn't live without it ! 

Caine. I couldn't live with it! 

Leavitt. Well, Smarty, you don't have to ! But tell 
me some more about this scheme. 

Caine. That's all ! You make the bonds, and I'll do 
the rest! 

Leavitt. The bonds can be easily duplicated by me 
here in the shop, by working at night, but who can do the 
signatures ? 

Caine. You can do that well enough yourself? 

Leavitt. No, no, the signatures on all the Steel issues 
are too well known, and the forgery might be suspected, 
on the sale of the first bond. 

Caine. (Rises, and speaks in whisper.) What about 
the girl, Miss Morris? 

Leavitt. 'Sh ! 

[Enter an employe at Right. Leavitt and Caine stop 
talking. Employe crosses to exit. Leavitt rises.] 
She could do it as easy as eating a chocolate, but I 
wouldn't risk asking her. She's too proud, curse her ! 
I have tried to be pleasant in several ways since she has 
been working for me, but she is just as stuck-up as ever 
she was in the days of prosperity. 

Caine. Probably you didn't handle her right. I'll 
sound her out myself. 

Leavitt. You can have a try — and welcome ! Some- 



I02 THREE PLAYS 

times I feel like slapping her face when she acts haughtily 
with me. 

Caine. (Sits.) Well, Joe, I spent some time and 
money on her after the crash, and I tried to be amiable, 
but the meaning of my intentions went over her head. 

Leavitt. She's as proud as Lucifer! 

Caine. I thought when I steered her into your em- 
ployment, you would succeed in breaking her pride 
before now. 

Leavitt. I have tried — I have tried ! Only yesterday, 
I offered to take her to the beach, and she made me so 
mad. 

Caine. How did she take it? 

Leavitt. Just as cool as an icicle. 

Caine. What did she say? 

Leavitt. She said probably Mrs. Leavitt and the kids 
would enjoy the outing, and needed it more than she did. 

Caine. (Laughs.) Well, that's funny! 

Leavitt. 'Tain't so funny, either, and I'll break her 
spirit before I'm done with her. 

Caine. Be careful, Joe, or you may drive her away 
altogether. She's not your kind, man — gad, I believe I'll 
ask her to marry me. 

Leavitt. And she'll throw you down, too. Go on 
and ask her. I believe she's in love with Waters. 

Caine. And he, the fool, thinks she's a crook. 

Leavitt. Ah, that was a stroke of genius, my boy. 

Caine. It came out luckily for us, because it pre- 
vented them making a fuss about the loss of the pearls. 

Leavitt. It came out just right! We got the money, 
and we needed it more than Rich, and we've got the girl 
in our hands. 

Caine. If we can only use her — and I'm going to 
have a try, and another try, and a try-again, Joe. You 
get out and make some excuse to send her in here. 

Leavitt. All right, good luck ! And if you don't get 
her, I'll have another go myself. (Exit.) 

Caine. Leavitt is smart, but he doesn't know how to 



THE CONSPIRATORS 103 

handle a woman like Dora Morris — perhaps I don't either. 
{Enter Dora. Caine goes to meet her. They shake 
hands.) I'm glad to see you again, Miss Morris. 

Dora. {With a smile.) Miss Moon. Don't forget 
my change in name. 

Caine. How do you like your work? 

Dora. I like it immensely, and I must thank you again 
for giving me the opportunity to earn a living in work 
that is congenial. 

Caine. Ah, Miss Morris, Dora, I wish I had the 
power or right to do something for you — something 
better. Won't you let me hope that some time in the 
future I will have the privilege and the honor? 

Dora. Please don't, Mr. Caine. I am deeply grateful 
to you for what you have done, but that is all I can say. 

Caine. But, hear me! Some day — soon — I shall be 
rich. Won't you give me some hope? 

Dora. Please don't say any more, Mr. Caine. The 
future is a sealed book. I am trying to learn contentment 
with the present, and trying to forget the past in my work. 

Caine. Ah, your work! It is drudgery! You are 
fitted for so much better things. With your beauty and 
genius, the world owes you a good living. 

Dora. The world owes me nothing. 

Caine. But it has treated you wretchedly, wrongfully. 

Dora. Shamefully ! But I must forget it all, and try 
to live the new life which Fate has given me, 

Caine. And your friends — Miss Lord for example? 
The little devil ! I could have wrung her neck last week, 
when I heard her telling her new friend. Count De Castro, 
about the robbery. 

Dora. {Bitterly.) One is better off without such 
friends. And did Count De Castro believe all she said? 

Caine. Evidently he did. He said he had met you 
in Paris, but had never liked you. 

Dora. {Laughing.) The Httle cad! He proposed 
to me seven times during our month's stay there. 



I04 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. He's a first-rate bounder, and I hope Miss 
Lord will marry him and make him miserable for life. 

Dora. Dear old Jack is far too good for her — I'm 
sorry for him. 

Caine. Oh, he's all right ! The match was broken off 
a month ago, a few days after his return. 

Dora. Dear boy ! He was the only unselfish man 
among my acquaintances — always excepting yourself, Mr. 
Caine. Even Mr. Waters believed me guilty of steahng 
those wretched pearls. Oh, I'd give my life — yes, my 
hopes of a future life — to know who took that trinket, 
and involved us in such misery. {Shudders.) Oh, can 
I ever blot those awful days from my memory? The 
shame and unhappiness of my father's suicide, the failure 
of the bank, and then the horror of being cut by acquain- 
tances, and those whom we had counted as life-long 
friends. 

Caine. Yes, indeed ! I tried to argue with Waters 
to prove your innocence, but he wouldn't listen to reason. 

Dora. {Bitterly.) I will never forget your kindness 
to mother and me. Without your assistance, we should 
have gone insane. 

Caine. You can repay me a hundred-fold by striking 
back at the world. 

Dora. My world consisted of but a few people. 
They, alas, dishonored me, believing me guilty of a crime. 
{with bitter?iess and passion, clenches her hands, and' 
takes a few steps forward.) But I will pay them back 
some day ! I will make them regret the torture they 
heaped on my head, and the shame they forced on my 
poor mother in the day of her distress and sorrow. 

Caine. {Enthusiastically.) Ah, that's the spirit to 
show ! With that fire in your heart, I will show you how 
to use your talents so as to command wealth and power. 

Dora. {With force.) If you could do that for me, 
I could almost love you. 

Caine. Your genius with the pen — nobody in the 
world equals you. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 105 

Dora. (Languorously.) Ah, that is nonsense! My 
genius with the pen is worth $20 a week, and I suppose 
I ought to be grateful for that much. 

Caine. But that is not what I mean. One who can 
imitate a signature as well as you can make every banker 
and broker in the world tremble with fear. 

Dora. What's that? Imitate a name? Forgery, you 
mean? (Relaxes.) Oh dear. (Sighs.) I thought you 
were in earnest! Why do you play a joke on a poor 
working-girl? And yet you seemed in earnest! If any- 
one else but the immaculate secretary of the unimpeach- 
able Edward Waters had made such a suggestion, I 
should have thought he were serious, and trying to pave 
the way for me to follow my father to the grave of a 
felon and suicide. 

Caine. (With a sigh and forced laugh.) But one 
thinks of that kind of thing occasionally. Miss Morris, 
when cruel circumstances crush our darling hopes. 

Dora. Yes — but I'm forgetting business. Mr. Leavitt 
asked me to show you this proof of the new bond issue 
in which your employer is interested. (Hands bond to 
Caine.) 

Caine. All right, leave it with me, and I will look it 
over. How is your Mother ? 

Dora. (With a sigh.) She is improving, thank you, 
but sadly in need of a change of air and scene, but we 
are poor now and must take life as it comes. (Exit.) 

Caine. By Jove, she'll do it, if she's pushed hard 
enough. She's got the mind and pluck of a man, and if 
the world pushes her too far, she'll fight back. (Puts 
bond on table.. Enter Leavitt.) 

Leavitt. Well, my boy, what luck? 

Caine. Oh, I guess she'll come all right. She's game 
and spirited, but she won't be driven. I must keep on 
working on her pride, and, if necessary, we must push 
her a little deeper into the mire. 

Leavitt. It's a puzzle to me why Providence should 



io6 THREE PLAYS 

waste her gifts on a woman who has neither the desire 
nor the pluck to use them. 

Caine. Don't make any mistake about her pluck, or 
you'll have a rude awakening. 

Leavitt. Oh, Great Jehovah, I'd give five years of my 
life to be able to use a pen as she can for five days. 

Caine. Things are getting desperate for me, and I 
must think of a plan to force her to co-operate with us. 

Leavitt. Can't we take her off somewhere and starve 
her into submission? 

• Caine. {Laughs.) You're crazy, man. You're not a 
financeer — you're a buccaneer. (Waters's voice is heard 
outside.) 

Leavitt. There's Waters — get out. 

Caine. {From door.) How about that check? 

Leavitt. I'll mail you one on chance. {Goes to 
Caine and pushes him outside at Right. Enter Waters.) 
Good afternoon, sir, this is an unexpected pleasure. The 
proof of your railway bond is ready, and I was just going 
to send it to your office. 

Waters. I am leaving town this evening for a few 
days, and I want to see the proof before I go, so, as I was 
passing near your place, I thought I would step in and 
look it over. 

Leavitt. I will send for it. {Rings hell. Enter 
Attendant. ) Tell the engraver to send in the proof of 
the United Traction bond. 

[Exit Attendant. Waters sits down near Leavitt's 
desk with his hack to door. Pulls out slide, takes 
out pocket-hook, and counts money.] 

Waters. When the stock is finished, you can deliver 
it at the office. I will pay for it now. 

Leavitt. {Goes to desk, sits down and writes receipt.) 
Very good, sir. Thank you very much. I will make 
out a receipt. The price is $600. 

Waters. All right! 

[Counts out six hundred-dollar hills. Enter Dora.] 



THE CONSPIRATORS 107 

Dora. I left the proof here a few moments ago, Mr. 
Leavitt. 

[Takes up proof. Waters, on hearing her voice, 
jumps to his feet. She shows great embarrassment, 
hut recovers first and hows.^ 

Waters. Dora, what are you doing here ? 

Dora. I am employed as an engraver. Mr. Leavitt, 
if you have no further need of me, I will go back to my 
work. 

Waters. Stay! Leavitt, please leave us alone for a 
few minutes. 

Leavitt. Make yourself at home, Mr. Waters. 
{Bows and exit.) 

Waters. What does this mean? How long have you 
been here? 

Dora. You will pardon me, Mr. Waters, but I really 
cannot see how my life or occupation can interest you. 

Waters. But that is nonsense ! I am one of your 
oldest friends. Why did you come here? 

Dora. To earn bread and a roof for my mother and 
myself. 

Waters. But why did you leave your old home so 
suddenly ? 

Dora. Our old home was no longer ours. My father 
died a bankrupt, and our friends had little sympathy for 
one whom they believed to be a thief and the daughter of 
a thief. 

Waters. {With a gesture of impatience.) But, even 
so, you know that I would help you and your mother for 
old times' sake. 

Dora. {Bitterly. ) Hear him, ye gods ! Even now, 
he believes me guilt}^ of stealing that wretched necklace. 

Waters. {Impatiently.) Oh, damn the necklace! 
Why can't you forget it and talk sense? 

Dora. Forget it! Oh, can I ever hope to forget it? 
It has seared my very soul ! 

Waters. Believe me, I, too, have suffered deeply. 

Dora. How can you compare your sufferings with 



io8 THREE PLAYS 

mine? The horrible death and disgrace of a loving 
Father, and the torture of being ostracised by every 
friend, when sympathy only was due and expected. 

Waters. I am deeply sorry, and would give anything 
to -undo the wrong. Jack and I did everything we could 
to hush the matter up, but Helen — (Dora clenches her 
hands.) Now, Dora, won't you let me see you and Mrs. 
Morris and do something for you. This is no life for you. 

Dora. Answer me one question truthfully. Do you 
believe I took the necklace? 

Waters. Of course you know I want to believe you 
innocent. 

Dora. Thank you, Mr. Waters. {Bows and goes to 
door. He tries to stop her, hut she brushes past him. 
Stands at door.) Oh, I hate you — I hate you all. 
{Exit.) 

Waters. Hang it all, I wish' Jack and his necklace 
had gone to Arabia, before they bothered me that night. 
{Enter Leavitt with proof.) Here is the proof, Mr. 
Waters. 

Waters. {Impatiently.) Oh, take it to the devil — 
send it to Mr. Caine. {Exit.) 

Leavitt. {Rubs his hands.) He doesn't appear to 
have got much comfort from my lady Dainty. {Rings 
bell. Enter Attendant.) Send Miss Moon. 

[Exit Attendant. Leavitt poses before glass.] 
By Judas, I do believe the old man has a chance yet. 
{Enter Dora.) Miss Moon, will you take those bills to 
the bank when you go to lunch. {Hands her hills which 
Waters gave him.) Make out a deposit slip at the bank. 

Dora. Yes, Mr. Leavitt; and I'd be greatly obliged 
if you'd let me have half a day off, I'm not feeling very 
well. 

[She takes hills and puts them in her purse, which she 
replaces in her pocket.] 

Leavitt. Certainly, my dear! And now, what do 
you say to us having a half -holiday together? Let us 



THE CONSPIRATORS 109 

take one of those hundred-dollar bills and smash it all to 
pieces having a good time. 

Dora. I don't understand you, Mr. Leavitt. 
Leavitt. (Jumps up, and, taking her forcibly round 
the waist, kisses her.) Do you understand me now? 
[She struggles with him, and breaks away. He rushes 

to door and locks it.'\ 
Dora. Oh, you wicked man ! Open the door instantly, 
or I shall scream. 

Leavitt. No, you won't scream, my dear. You'll 
just take things as they come and be sensible. (Dora 
goes to door and tries to force it open.) The door is 
sound-proof. Don't be silly, now, dearie. 

Dora. Oh, what have I done to encourage such treat- 
ment as this ? Open the door instantly, or I will scream, 
and call the police. 

Leavitt. Don't be foolish — I'm your friend. 
[He grasps her hand, takes her round the waist and 
kisses her once more. She strikes him, in the face 
and breaks his hold, rushes to window, breaks it, and 
calls OM^. ] 
Dora. Help! Help! Police! 

[Leavitt tidies his dress and hair, unlocks door and 
sits at desk. Door opens to admit Policeman, 
Waters, and Caine. ] 
Policeman. What does this mean? 
Dora. That beast locked me in here and attempted to 
ill-treat me. 

Waters. Arrest him at once, officer — it's an outrage. 
[Officer walks to Leavitt who holds his hand up with 

a smile.] 
Leavitt. Wait a minute, Mr. Officer. She is the one 
to be arrested. 

Policeman. What do you mean? 
Leavitt. For some time, I have been missing sums 
of money from my desk, and a few minutes ago, I caught 
the girl stealing six hundred dollars. 



no THREE PLAYS 

Dora. It's a lie! He insulted me and treated me 
brutally. Arrest him and take him to prison. 

Leavitt. Search her ! Ask her to produce her purse. 

Dora. {Takes purse from pocket, and throws it to 
Policeman.) There is my purse — you will find nothing 
in it but a little change. 

[Turns away. Policeman opens purse, and takes out 
hills. ] 

Leavitt. Do you recognize those bills, Mr. Waters? 
The same six hundred you gave me less than an hour ago. 

Waters. Yes, I paid you six hundred dollars — but 
your charge is incomprehensible. I can't believe it. 

Dora. It's a wicked he! He gave me the money to 
deposit in the bank for him, and then he insulted me. 

Leavitt. Officer, I charge that young woman with 
larceny and blackmail. When I caught her stealing the 
bills, I locked the door so as to telephone for an officer 
to arrest her. Then she threatened to blackmail me, 
and called out of the window to make good her bluff. 

Waters. I don't believe it ! Her word is a thousand 
times better than yours. 

Leavitt. Very fine talk, Mr. Waters. But can you 
deny that the young woman left your house a few weeks 
ago under suspicion of stealing a diamond necklace — or 
something of the kind? 

Caine. Oh, I say, Leavitt, withdraw the charge, and 
let the officer go. 

Leavitt. No, sir ! Officer, do your duty. 

Waters. I protest ! 

Policeman. Is what Mr. Leavitt says about the 
diamond necklace true, sir? 

Waters. That's none of your business! 

Policeman. Well, I draws my own conclusions. 
You, Miss, put on your hat and come with me. 

[Dora goes to closet, takes hat in hand, and slowly 
goes out as the curtain falls.] 



THE CONSPIRATORS m 



Scene II. 

[Waiting room of Municipal Court, Criminal Session. 
Next day. There is a door in centre leading to Court 
room, and another on left leading to corridor. 
When centre door is open, arguments, etc. are heard. 
Enter Caine and Waters.] 

Waters. She is not here yet. 

Caine. Her case is last on the list, and on account of 
her mother's illness, she will stay at home until the last 
moment. 

Waters. This is a dreadful business ! How does she 
take it? 

Caine. As coolly as an old-timer, sir — she has plenty 
of nerve. Are you going to remain, sir? You'll have 
to keep out of the way if you wish to avoid testifying 
against her. An officer called four times at the house to 
serve a subpoena on you. 

Waters. That will never do! I'll get away from 
here. Have you retained Brimful as I told you? 

Caine. Yes, sir, I had some difficulty in getting him 
to come to this court, but I succeeded. 

Waters. Good! He'll do all that's possible for her. 
Oh, God! if I could only believe her innocent. 

Caine. It's pretty hard to believe with the facts so 
strong against her. Here she comes, sir. 

Waters. I'll be in the library, if you need me. 
[Exits. Enter Dora.] 

Caine. Ah! you are on time. {Jokingly.) I was 
hoping that you might still be induced to jump your bail. 

Dora. No, not that! I have not reached that sta^e 
yet! I have cost my friends some pangs of shame and 
regret, but I am not going to cost you, my good friend, 
a thousand dollars for your kindness in helping me. 



112 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. (Sentimentally.) I'm a poor man, Miss Dora, 
but if it had cost me all I possess I would have paid it 
rather than that you should spend even a single night in 
a prison cell. 

Dora. Thank you ; I shall never forget your kindness. 

Caine. But won't you let me plead again with you 
to go away and avoid this dreadful ordeal. Just think 
of the shame and disgrace of standing even for a moment 
among those poor wretches in there — the prisoner's dock. 

Dora. Think of it! Oh! how can I ever forget it! 
(Breaks down.) Oh! what shall I do? (Sits on bench.) 
Oh, mother dear, this will surely kill you. 

Caine. (Goes over to Dora.) Come away and leave 
it all. There is yet time. In some distant city, you 
can be happy — we can be happy. 

Dora. (With dignity.) You are very kind, Mr. 
Caine, and mean well, but I am innocent of wrong; and 
in the city of my birth, I can surely get justice. I am 
strong again, and will face my accusers. Has Mr. 
Waters been here? (Wistfully.) 

Caine. No, I have not seen him today, 

Dora. (With a slight gesture of disappointment.) 
Trouble and misfortune act on one's friends like an April 
sun on thin ice. 

Caine. I have succeeded in putting your case on the 
end of the list, and as no one knows you under the name 
of Moon, the case has attracted no attention, and there 
will be few spectators. 

Dora. Ah ! you are my best friend — kind and thought- 
ful, and so different from Mr. — all the the others. 

Caine. Keep your veil down, and sit in the room 
across the corridor until the case is called. 

Dora. Thank you, again, my friend. (Shakes his 
hand.) That is what I dreaded most — the awful publici- 
ty. (Exit. Enter Leavitt from Court.) 

Leavitt. I have been peeping through the window, 
watching for her to go out. How does she take it? 



THE CONSPIRATORS 113 

Caine. You're a damned old scoundrel, Leavitt, and 
I should like to punch your head. 

Leavitt. Hoity-toity ! You'd better try and punch 
my head. What are you fussing about? 

Caine. You've gone too far in this business, and I 
want to give you warning now, to keep your eye off the 
girl, except for business. 

Leavitt. What have you got to say about it? Is she 
your property? 

Caine. I hope she will be some day, and if you don't 
keep your eyes away from her. {Draws a large knife, 
and plays with it.) I'll carve you into sausage meat — 
damn you. 

Leavitt. You keep your temper ! You can have the 
girl — if you want her, when she comes out of prison. 

Caine. She'll never go to prison! 

Leavitt. (With signs of alarm.) Not go to prison? 
Are you going back on me ? 

Caine. No ! You can go ahead on this deal to the 
limit, because she's not ready to give in yet. She's still 
got pride and honesty — ^but after an hour in there and 
twelve months' imprisonment hanging over her, I'm 
mightily mistaken if she doesn't fall into my way of 
thinking. 

Leavitt. Why didn't you let her stay in the cell all 
night ? That would have broken her proud spirit ! 

Caine. I would have left her there all right, but 
Waters hustled me off at once to find a bail commissioner, 
with imperative instructions to get her out. 

Leavitt. Hang him ! we'll make him pay yet ! 

Caine. Well, I turned it all to my advantage, as he 
ordered me on no account to let her know who was 
putting up the stuff. 

Leavitt. Good boy ! 

Caine. And he told me to try and persuade her to 
jump her bail ! Look at the roll she was to get to pay 
her way. (Shows bills.) 



114 THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt. Ow wow ! That's a tidy bunch of money ! 
Let me warm my hands on it. 

Caine. Five thousand. And when I tried to get her 
to accept this and skip, she actually believed that I was 
the philanthropist. 

[Leavitt yells with laughter, and a court officer opens 
centre door.] 

Officer. (Gruffly.) Keep quiet, or get out. (Shuts 
door.) 

Leavitt. Beg pardon, Mr. Officer, I forgot where I 
was. 

Caine. (To Leavitt.) Repress your feehngs, old 
man, or you'll be in the dock for contempt. (Walks up 
and looks into court room through door.) The dock is 
cleared. We must be next. Take a brace, Leavitt, and 
put on your Sunday school face. 

Leavitt. Don't worry about me, old boy; I'll make 
the judge believe me against a dozen witnesses. 

Officer. (From centre door.) Dora Moon — Dora 
Moon and all witnesses. (Shuts door.) 

Caine. You remain here, Leavitt, and I will bring 
her through the other door into the Court. (Exit.) 

Leavitt. Ah ! Mr. Caine, you're pretty easy with your 
knife, but perhaps I'll make you pay some day, Mr. 
Smarty. Ah! but isn't she a beauty? Well, after all, 
if he can get her to sign those bonds, I'll be satisfied with 
the money, and he can have the girl. Oh ! Oh ! ! Oh ! ! ! 
to make a million dollars and all so easy. (Enter Caine.) 

Caine. Now, Leavitt, get inside. The case is on. 

[Leavitt exit. Waters enters. Caine opens centre 
door for Waters to pass in.] 

Waters. No, Caine, I can't go in there — they'll make 
me testify against her. You stand at the door and tell 
me how it's going. (Caine opens door partly.) 

A Loud Voice. (From Court.) I object! 

Second Loud Voice. I will hear what the officer has 
to say on that point. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 115 

First Voice. But, your honor, I /rof^^y^/ What Mr. 
Waters said is not competent ! 

Second Voice. If he charged her with a former theft 
in her presence, I will admit it. 

First Voice. (Angrily.) But why doesn't the gov- 
ernment bring Mr. Waters here as a witness, if he knows 
anything that is competent? 

Third Voice. May it please your honor, we have 
searched for Mr. Waters all the morning, but we could 
not find him. He has not been at his house nor at his 
office. 

Second Voice. I will admit the evidence. 

Third Voice. Mr. Waters accused her with stealing 
a diamond ring from his house where she was formerly a 
servant. 

Second Voice. And what did she say? 

Third Voice. She didn't deny it ! I then arrested her ! 
[Caine shuts the door.] 

Waters. Prejudiced old fool! 

Caine. Mr. Brimful is putting up a good fight, sir, 
but the judge is prejudiced against Miss Morris. 

Waters. It's outrageous ! 

Caine. The officer is rubbing it in pretty thick. 

Waters. That's how it is usually done in this court, 
but, fortunately, if there's miscarriage of justice, an 
appeal to the Superior Court can be had without for- 
mality, and there a man is judged by twelve of his fellow 
citizens. 

Caine. But even there. Justice is sometimes blind. 

Waters. (Bitterly.) Yes, and sometimes goes on 
crutches. Of course. Brimful will appeal in case of a 
verdict against us. 

Caine. Surely, sir. 

Waters. This atmosphere is choking me. I will go 
back to the library, 

[Exits. Caine opens centre door again.] 

Caine. Ah ! the cop is finished ! He looks flushed, as 



ii6 THREE PLAYS 

if Brimful had given his a mauvais quart d'heure. Now 
for Leavitt. 

Voice. Your name! 

Leavitt's Voice. Joseph Leavitt. 

Voice. And your business ! 

Leavitt's Voice. President of the Universal Engrav- 
ing Company and director of the Tremont Trust Com- 
pany. 

Voice. Do you know the prisoner, Dora Moon? 

Leavitt's Voice. I know her slightly. She has been 
in my employ some two months. 

Voice. Did you know her before that time? 

Leavitt's Voice. Not personally. I took her into my 
employ out of charity on the recommendation of a cus- 
tomer, who said he'd vouch for her character. 

Voice. When did you see her last? 

Leavitt's Voice. Yesterday afternoon in my office. 

Voice. Tell what happened. 

Leavitt's Voice. I returned from lunch about one- 
thirty, and as I entered my private office, I saw the 
prisoner leaning over my desk. I walked softly behind 
her, and saw her place some six hundred dollars in bills 
in her purse which I had left on my desk. I charged 
her with the theft and said I would have her arrested. 

Voice. What did she say or do? 

Leavitt's Voice. She put her arms round my neck, 
and attempted to kiss me. 

Dora's Voice. Oh ! you monster ! How can you lie 
like that ? 

Voice. Keep quiet. Miss. 

Dora's Voice. Oh! this is too horrible! 

Voice. Keep quiet, now; you can testify later. Go 
on, Mr. Leavitt. 

Leavitt's Voice. I am a respectable married man, 
and I was naturally horrified. I released myself from her 
embrace, and demanded the return of my money. 

Voice. What did she say then? 

Leavitt's Voice. She chucked me under the chin, and 



THE CONSPIRATORS 117 

called me her darling old boy, and said she needed the 
money worse than I did. 

Voice. Well? 

Leavitt's Voice. I went to the telephone to call the 
police, and she said, "If you don't quit, I'll ruin your 
character. I'll swear you assaulted me." Then as she 
was trying to leave the room, I locked the door. 

Voice. What did she do? 

Leavitt's Voice. She said, "I'll show you a thing or 
two you never learnt before!" She then broke the win- 
dow and called for help. The rest happened just as the 
officer told you. She at first charged me with assault, 
and denied she had the money, but the officer found it 
in her purse. 

Voice. You can cross examine, Mr. Brimful. 

Second Voice. W^hat's your nationality? 

Leavitt's Voice. American, sir. 

Brimful's Voice. What kind of American? 

Leavitt's Voice. I'm of pure Puritan blood. My 
ancestors came over on the Mayflower. 

Brimful's Voice. {Laugh.) You mean the ark, 
don't you. Where did you come from? 

Leavitt's Voice. Germany. 

Brimful's Voice. {Laugh.) I didn't know Jerusa- 
lem was in Germany. 

Leavitt's Voice. I must ask the honorable Court for 
protection. 

Second Voice. Please keep to the merits of the case, 
Mr. Brimful. 

Brimful^s Voice. You're Superintendent of a Sun- 
day school, I believe? 

Leavitt's Voice. Yes, sir, I am a faithful servant of 
the Lord. 

Brimful's Voice. Will you explain how Miss Moore's 
dress got torn? 

Leavitt's Voice. I don't know. 

Bbimful's Voice. You heard the officer say her waist 
was torn. Don't you know it was torn? 



ii8 THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt's Voice. It must have got torn when I tried 
to break away from her embrace. 

Dora's Voice. Is there no God in Heaven to strike 
him dead? 

Voice. If you don't keep silent, I will commit you 
for contempt. 

[Enter Waters. Caine shuts door.] 

Waters. How is it going, Caine? 

Caine. Badly, I'm afraid, sir. (Enter Officer.) 

Officer. Oh ! Mr. Waters, I'm glad to find you. I've 
been looking for you all the morning. 

Waters. I'll see you in my office. (Starts to exit.) 

Officer. (Puts his hand on his arm.) You're wanted 
now, sir, here in this court as a witness. 

Waters. Hang the luck! I'd rather lose my hand. 
Where's your summons? 

Officer. (Feels in his pocket.) I believe I've left 
it with the clerk. Wait a minute and I'll get it, sir. 
(Exit into court room.) 

Waters. Does the idiot think I'm going to wait for 
him when I don't have to? (Exit.) 

Caine. (Laughing.) My respected master isn't 
happy today. (Looks through door.) Hello, Leavitt is 
finished. (Enter Officer.) 

Officer. Where's Mr. Waters gone? 

Caine. He's waiting for you in the clerk's office. 
[Exit Officer. Caine opens door of Court.] 

Brimful's Voice. I have no witnesses, your honor, 
and I move the case be dismissed. 

Second Voice. I find the prisoner guilty. Prisoner, 
have you anything to say before I pass sentence upon 
you? 

Dora's Voice. The testimony of the witnesses is a 
tissue of falsehoods. I am innocent. 

Second Voice. You are sentenced to be imprisoned 
for nine nionths with hard labor. 

Dora's Voice. Am I dreaming? Call this a court of 
justice, where an innocent and defenceless woman can 



THE CONSPIRATORS 119 

be dragged and made a felon on the testimony of such 
men as these? Ah! may God save the Commonwealth 
of Massachusetts and help me! (Noise.) 

Voices. Order ! Order in the court ! 

First Voice. I appeal! 

Second Voice. The appeal is allowed, with bail to 
remain at one thousand dollars. 

[Caine shuts the door and shakes hands with himself. 
Exit into court room, returning in a moment with 
Dora on his arm.] 

Caine. Bear up, Dora, don't give way now, when you 
need all your courage and strength of mind. 

Dora. Oh! think of the shame! How can I stand 
up against it? Oh, mother dear, this will surely kill you. 

Caine. It is nothing serious yet. The verdict of this 
court doesn't count for anything. 

Dora. {In despair.) Oh! I am a felon under sen- 
tence ! Oh ! I wish I were dead ! 

Caine. You must live and fight back! Let me be 
your guide and councellor; and when we are rich and 
powerful, we will force them to their knees. 

Dora. Riches and power ! Ah ! I once dreamt of 
those! But now I am a beggar and a felon, and what 
have I done that I should be tortured thus? And what 
will my poor mother do without the little care and atten- 
tion I have been able to give her. 

Caine. They will take her to the poor-house, and 
make her suffer for your supposed crime. 

Dora. (Stands up and speaks angrily.) They shan't 
do it ! I will kill her and myself this very night and end 
this misery. 

Caine. That would be cowardly, and you are not a 
coward. Be reasonable, Dora,— you are young, beautiful, 
and talented. The world owes you a living — a good liv- 
ing, and your innocent mother has done nothing that 
she should suffer. Fight back! Give blow for blow, 
and make the vampires give up some of the illgotten 



I20 THREE PLAYS 

wealth which they have sucked from the veins of the 
poor and oppressed. 

Dora. Ah ! if I could do it ! 

Caine. You can do it ! I can show you ! 

Dora. Show me the way ! I will do anything for 
revenge ! I feel today as if I could rob or even kill to 
be revenged on the world. 

CURTAIN 



THE CONSPIRATORS 121 

ACT III. 
[Same as Act II. Two weeks later. Enter Caine.] 

Caine. (Looking round.) Hello, I suppose she's 
gone to supper and left the light. How careless ! 
(Looks round and sees safe and desk open. Shuts safe 
and then goes to desk.) Well, I'm condemned! Just 
like a woman! (Picks up an open bond from pile on 
desk.) Great Caesar! who wants to risk his neck doing 
business of this kind with a woman ! I'll bet my hat she 
wouldn't leave a love-letter lying around like this ! 

[Enter Leavitt, cautiously peeping through the door 
before coming in.] 

Leavitt. Is she here? 

Caine. Is who here? 

Leavitt. Dora, of course, old Crusty? 

Caine. No, she's gone to dinner, I suppose. But 
what do you think of this? The whole place opened up — 
desk, safe and all — and all these bonds lying about. 
Don't you think I've got reason to be crusty? 

Leavitt. (Startled, takes a few steps towards door, 
then comes back.) Holy Solomon ! you don't mean to say 
that she left those life preservers lying about here? 

Caine. That's just what she did! 

Leavitt. You've taken my breath away ! 

Caine. I don't blame you — it's a great risk ! 

Leavitt. By Judas! I will beat her! My dear 
Caine, have you ever stopped to think, that if some crank 
of a judge, with a sour stomach, were to sentence us to 
one year for each of those bonds, it would cost us a 
thousand years — ^half of eternity! Just think of being 
in a cold cell all that time! 

Caine. Well, it might be worse ! It probably will be 
worse for you ! 



122 THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt. Quit your joking! This is no child's play! 
She must be made to take care! 

Caine. How are you going to do it? 

Leavitt. Beat her! Kick her! Do something to 
make her careful ! . 

Caine. The shock's been too much for you, Joe — take 
a drink. (Crosses to desk and gives Leavitt bottle from 
desk. Leavitt drinks, and sinks in a chair.) You'd 
better keep your eyes and ears open, and make a jump 
for the other entrance when you hear her footsteps, be- 
cause if she sees you here, the jig's up. 

Leavitt. Let her see me here ! She's got to see me 
some time or other ! I ain't going to put up with any 
more nonsense from her. She's got to see me now, right 
here! 

Caine. No, she hasn't ! No reason why she should 
ever see you again. I tell you, man, if she knew you had 
anything to do with this, she'd cut her hand off, before 
she'd write another signature. 

Leavitt. You may think so, but I don't believe it ! 
She's out for the stuff the same as we are — and I'm 
getting tired of her airs and graces. 

Caine. (Grasping him by the collar, and looking him 
in the face.) You've been drinking too much! 

Leavitt. And what if I have! It's none of your 
darned business! (Shakes Caine off.) 

Caine. Joe, if I thought you meant it, I'd cut your 
heart out. 

Leavitt. You would, eh ? 

Caine. Yes, I would! You know the risk we're 
taking ! My liberty, as well as yours, is at stake ; and if 
anything happens through your blundering, I'll kill you. 
I'd rather go to the chair, than to the prison for life. 

Leavitt. (Seriously.) Oh! I'll be all right! I've 
been worried and frightened, and I took a drink or two. 

Caine. Go outside, and do something to clear your 
head. Go on, quick ! 

[Leavitt slinks out of door.] 



THE CONSPIRATORS 123 

Oh ! that dog ! I hope I'll never see his face again after 
this week's over. To be so near the goal of my hopes, 
and to be put in danger by such a thing as him! (Goes 
to desk and counts bonds.) One, two, three, the rest are 
finished, I suppose. Well done, Dora, you're a brick. 
Where are the rest? (Pulls out two or three drawers of 
desk, then goes to safe and opens it.) Ah! here they are 
— all neatly folded and packed ! Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, 
thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, eighty, ninety, one hun- 
dred. One thousand first bonds of the Steel Trust — 
every one as easy to sell as a silver dollar. 

[Enter Leavitt, with a pained expression on his face.] 
Come, I'll give you the water-cure. 

[Takes Leavitt by the collar, and drags him up to 
washstand. Leavitt yells, and taking towel from 
closet, dries his hands and face.] 
Caine. Keep quiet, you fool — she may return at any 
moment ! 

[Shuts centre door and locks it.] 
Leavitt. Ah ! I feel better now ! Thanks, old man, 
you meant well ! 

[Caine fills glass half full of water and takes spoonful 
of seher from bottle, puts it in water, and hands 
glass to Leavitt, who drinks contents. Caine 
crosses to desk, takes up bond on which Dora was 
working, and hands it to Leavitt.] 
Leavitt. Ah ! smooth as satin ! Not a tremor ! She 
must have nerves of steel! 

Caine. (Hands him another bond.) There is the 
original. 

Leavitt. (Admiringly.) Ah! a perfect facsimile. 
Charles W. Schwab, President. She's an artist ! This 
would surprise Charlie ! 

Caine. Yes, sir, even Carnegie would accept that 
bond as the genuine article. 

Leavitt. They wouldn't build many libraries on these ! 
Caine. Not after July first, when the coupons come 
due. 



124 THREE PLAYS 

Leavitt. She's an artist ! When does the deal come 
off? 

Caine. Tonight! {Takes bond from Leavitt and 
puts it on the desk.) It's a certainty! 

Leavitt. Has she finished the work? 

Caine. All but three ! There are nine neat little 
packages of a hundred each arranged in the safe, and 
every package is good for more than a hundred thousand. 

Leavitt. But are you sure the originals are in 
Waters's safe? 

Caine. Certain! I went with him to the deposit 
vaults this afternoon, and was with him until he placed 
them in the safe at home. 

Leavitt. Are you sure of the numbers? That is 
most important! {Both stand in front of table.) 

Caine. {Takes small book from pocket.) I've got a 
copy of Waters's diary here, that contains a full descrip- 
tion of every security he holds, as individual or trustee. 

Leavitt. Well, we're in luck ! I hardly believed he'd 
ever do it in the way you said. It seems mighty careless 
to keep over a million dollars of negotiable securities in 
his house even for a night. 

Caine. Why, Joe, my boy, those fellows get so used 
to handling millions in their big deals, that they take no 
more notice of a million dollars than you or I would of 
a thousand. 

Leavitt. {Gloating.) Ah! I'd like to feel that way! 
But I could never sleep with that much wealth in my 
house. I'd sit up and play with it all night. {Sits.) 
These counterfeits are so perfect — why risk changing 
them? 

Caine. It's the safest way — doubly safe. 

Leavitt. Why not sell these, or put them up as 
collateral for a big loan, and skedoodle before the trick 
is discovered? 

Caine. It might be done, but you'd have to take some 
time to get a reputation as a big borrower — we haven't 
got the time for fancy work. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 125 

Leavitt. Well, I suppose that's right ! But I'd rather 
take a chance of planting a few hundreds of these, than 
that you should be caught by Waters, or that he should 
find out that the whole bunch are counterfeits. 

Caine. There's no danger of that ! 

Leavitt. Oh ! to get so near success and then to fail ! 
It would break my heart ! 

Caine. Don't you worry about that! My plans are 
too well-laid. These packages won't be opened till 
Waters hands them over in London, and there's no chance 
of the forgery being detected there for many weeks. 

Leavitt. Yes. And, an3'how, even then, I don't see 
how they can suspect us of having worked the deal. 

Caine. If Waters's deal goes through in London, these 
bonds will be scattered into hundreds of hands, and there 
will be muddle enough to keep the police of both coun- 
tries guessing for years. 

Leavitt. (Grinning.) Yes! Yes! it's great! (Seri- 
ously.) But I'm afraid of the girl! Say, why should 
we risk everything with her? 

Caine. We can't help it! She was indispensable! 
Without her we could only have worked a clumsy job! 
By her aid, we avoid all risk ! 

Leavitt. Caine, I've laid awake night after night 
thinking of this job ! I tell you we're fools to risk every- 
thing with that petticoat. 

Caine. Oh ! you've got no nerve ! 

Leavitt. I've got nerve enough, and I'll prove it! 
I'll raise the limit with you tonight — now. 

Caine. What do you mean, Joe? 

Leavitt. We must get rid of the girl. She loves 
Waters, and when she finds out he was the victim, she'll 
give us away — cold. 

Caine. I know ; but we measured that risk and every 
other when we planned this deal, and we cannot change 
now — it's to late ! 

Leavitt. It's not too late ! We have no more use for 



126 THREE PLAYS 

her! I'll toss you a coin for her share — or split even 
with you. 

Caine. And what about her? 

Leavitt. We must get rid of her! She'll not be 
missed now ! We must kill her ! 

Caine. You devil ! (Grabs Leavitt and chokes him.) 
I'll kill you! 

Leavitt. (Chokingly.) Let go — you hurt! (Caine 
throws him down.) 1 was only joking! 

Caine. You lie — you were only too much in earnest. 

Leavitt. Well, if I was ! It's my life against hers ! 
If she gives us away, I might as well be dead. 

Caine. By God, sir, I never realized till this moment 
the depths to which my avarice has caused me to fall. 
Get up and keep as far from me as possible. 

Leavitt. (Getting up.) Well, I'm sorry — forget it. 
Don't let us scrap now I Let us finish the job ! After 
all it looks like a cinch ! Let's have a drink. 

[Caine motions to desk. Leavitt gets bottle, and 
pours out a large drink which he swallows. Then 
he hands bottle and glass to Caine, who pushes it 
away. ] 

Caine. Leavitt, you were never nearer death than 
you were a moment ago. 

Leavitt. You certainly gave me a scare ! 

Caine. I'm not a quarrelsome man, but if I had had 
a weapon in my hand, I would have killed you like a rat. 

Leavitt. (Taking another drink.) Forget it! 

Caine. Let it be a warning to you until we part for- 
ever in a few days. 

Leavitt. You've certainly got a nasty temper! I 
didn't expect it from you ! But the girl gets on my 
nerves ! I don't understand her ! I never knew a girl 
like her before — and I've known a good many of them 
in my day. 

Caine. She's a lady, Joe, and you're not used to that 
kind of woman. She's all right as long as she doesn't 
suspect you're in the deal. I had an awful job to get her 



THE CONSPIRATORS 127 

to come here to work, even after I told her that I had 
bought you out, and that you had gone West. (Starts.) 
I hear footsteps! (Latchkey is heard in door.) I'm 
coming, my dear. (To Leavitt.) Get out, quick. 
(Leavitt hastily exit. Caine opens door. Dora comes 
in. He then locks door.) You look tired, Dora. You've 
been vi^orking hard — but it's almost done. . 

Dora. (Goes to closet and hangs tip her hat. Speaks 
wearily.) Yes, almost all done. (She sits at desk and 
begins to write.) 

Caine. And then in a few days, we shall be able to 
go abroad, and the sea air will bring your mother round 
again. 

Dora. Poor mother ! She's almost in a state of coma ! 
I wish I, too, could sit and dream and forget. Aren't 
you going? 

Caine. (Walking up and down nervously.) I'm 
going to wait until you're finished. I must have them 
tonight. If you're in a hurry to get rid of me, finish the 
work, and I'll go. 

Dora. Oh no, not that ! Don't think me ungrateful ! 
You have been very kind! (Caine advances, puts his 
arm round her waist and attempts to kiss her. She 
pushes his face away, and jumps up in a ftiry.) How 
dare you! Why did you touch me? (She takes up re- 
maining bonds and tears them to pieces; then throws them 
on the ground and stamps her foot on them. Caine has 
stepped towards her and tried to prevent her from tear- 
ing them, but she has pushed him back.) Oh! I'm 
stifling! Let me get out of here into the pure air of 
Heaven ! 

Caine. Dora ! Miss Morris ! Please be calm ! I 
meant no wrong! 

Dora. (Goes to door and finds it locked.) Open this 
door, instantly! 

Caine. (Goes up to Dora, a7id takes both her hands.) 
Dora ! Miss Morris ! Won't you be quiet for a moment 
and listen to me? Why should you be insulted? You 



128 THREE PLAYS 

know I love you, have loved you and want to marry you ! 
Think of all that is at stake! Think of your mother! 

Dora. {Turns from him.) My poor mother! 

Caine. You know I have been devoted to you, and 
have worked with only your comfort and your mother's 
in my mind. 

Dora. Yes ! Yes ! But you should not insult me — 
here of all places, where the memory of that monster 
taints the very atmosphere. 

Caine. (Coldly.) If my honest attentions are insult- 
ing, I will refrain from pressing them. Miss Morris. 

Dora. That kind of attention from you or anyone is 
insulting — degrading — and I'm finished with the whole 
business. 

Caine. You are nervous and excited tonight — you are 
not yourself. 

Dora. No, I am not myself ! I am another woman, 
born of wrong and oppression — a convicted thief, a forg- 
er by choice — and then this!. (With a bitter and dis- 
gusted groan.) 

Caine. (Crosses back of table to safe. Draws a glass 
of water, surreptitiously puts some brandy in it, and 
hands it to Dora.) Take a httle water, Miss Morris! 
(He stands in front of table.) 

Dora. (Takes it and gulps it down.) Water! You 
said water! This is whiskey! 

Caine. Yes, you are very nervous. It will help you 
to be yourself. 

Dora. Now, let me go home! I promised mother to 
be back in half an hour. Poor thing ! she's in pain. 

Caine. She will not live, unless she gets a change 
of air and proper medical attention. She needs a 
specialist. 

Dora. And we are outcasts and paupers ! 

Caine. Of course you and she must leave Boston 
before next Tuesday, or you will have to stand trial in 
the Superior Court on that day. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 129 

Dora. Oh God! how bitter Hfe is! But I care not 
what happens to me ! 

Caine. But think of your mother! By remaining, 
you're sentencing yourself to prison, and her to a pauper's 
grave. 

Dora. Why do you torture me? Let me get away 
from here^the work is done now — you have no further 
need of me. 

Caine. Yes, I have, Dora — I shall always have need 
of you. Let me be as a son to your mother. 

Dora. ( With a sigh. ) Yes, and mother loves you ! 
You're very good, and I suppose I'm nothing but a hys- 
terical girl. But I should prefer that you give me a few 
thousand dollars to take my mother away from this place, 
and let me try and forget the price which I have paid. 
{Sits down. Caine makes a gesture of dissent.) Ah! 
you need not be afraid that I shall betray you ! 

Caine. But, Dora, you must brace up. You have 
earned your share to the fortune which will be ours to- 
morrov/ — three hundred and fifty thousand at least, will 
be your share, and as much more, mine. We can go 
abroad and live a princely life in some other country, and 
your mother will live and die in the surroundings to 
which she has been accustomed, and is entitled. 

Dora. (Rises.) Yes, I will go! It is better so! 
But, (Clenches her fist and speaks sternly.) let us under- 
stand each other, Mr. Caine. You have done me the 
honor to make love to me on several occasions. I don't 
want it. My heart is dead ! There is no place in it for 
love! You have been the best friend I have had since 
my hour of trouble and you have been the worst friend 
a woman ever had. You have helped me to bear up 
against the world in my misery — but you have helped to 
nourish and cherish the bitterness in my soul. You have 
cheered me in the face of false accusations, and kept me 
from a prison cell — and you have taught me to defy the 
law and commit a crime which would send me to such 
a cell for ever. 



I30 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. (Coldly.) You are very severe, Miss Morris. 

Dora. I am jttstl You say I shall be rich tomorrow! 
Very well ! You will have kept your promise to make 
me rich as the price of my crime. 

Caine. Oh, Dora ! Dora ! I wish you would believe 
that my love for you is sincere, and based on genuine 
admiration for your qualities of head and heart! Have 
I not been your devoted slave since I have known you? 
Let me still serve you ! All I ask is a little hope that you 
will try and like me better from day to day, as I prove 
my unselfish devotion to your interests — and your 
mother's. 

Dora. Well, be it so! Perhaps, some day, I may 
change my mind; and if I may judge by the gradual 
moral degeneration which has taken place within me in 
the last few months, perhaps I may consider even a love- 
less marriage without disgust in the not distant future. 
There ! shake hands on our bargain ! 

[They shake hands, and Caine kisses her hand respect- 
fully. ] 

Caine. Now, please, hurry up and finish the others, 
as I must take them all with me. 

Dora. (Laughing.) They are already finished. 
(Picks up some of the pieces.) 

Caine. (With a groan, picks up remaining pieces.) 
Oh! the pity of it ! Over a thousand dollars and as good 
as gold ! 

Dora. (Laughing.) Never mind! There's enough 
left, and we'll burn many thousands of dollars before the 
month is out. 

[She and Caine proceed to fold up the remaining bonds 
carefully. ] 

Caine. (Puts the pieces away in his pocket.) I must 
burn every vestige of this. Now, I must go ; but if I am 
lucky, I'll be back inside of half an hour. Will you wait? 

Dora. I will wait a little, but mother was feeling 
unwell, when I left, and I must not stay too long. 

Caine. (As he exit.) Au revoir. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 131 

Dora. (Sits down.) Oh! the weariness and the 
shame! But I must be strong and bitter! The world 
and my false friends have driven me to this. (Rises, 
takes a few steps up and down, then looks at her watch.) 
Half an hour, he said. I will have time to go to our 
rooms and see how mother is. (She goes to closet, takes 
out her hat, and arranges it before the glass. Turns light 
out, and goes towards door.) My goodness, I am getting 
absent-minded! I actually forgot to shut my desk and 
the safe. {She closes them, occupying a minute or so 
putting things straight, by light of m,oon, or electric light 
through window from street. She then goes to door. 
Just as she is about to exit, she hears the sound of a key 
in the other door and stops.) Who is it? Can it be a 
burglar? Or the police? Yes, it is the poHce ! We are 
discovered. 

[Leavitt enters, and feels about for electric button.] 

Leavitt. Where is that damned button? I ought to 
know. {Turns on light.) 

Dora. {Steps into closet.) It is Leavitt! What is 
he doing here? He went to California! 

Leavitt. Ah ! my pretty forger is gone ! I wonder 
if the desk is locked. I must get another drink of Caine's 
brandy! My stomach and my nerves are all broken up. 
{He tries desk and finds it locked. Bangs it with his 
hand. Feels in his pocket and takes out bunch of keys, 
with one of which he opens the desk. Finds brandy and 
takes a drink.) Three hundred and fifty thousand, Caine 
said — there was over a million ! Hang him, it should be 
an even divide! If he's going to marry the girl, why 
should they get two-thirds between them? {Telephone 
rings. ) 

Dora. {From closet.) He knows! Leavitt is in the 
plot ! He gets a share ! 

Leavitt. {At telephone.) Hello! Hello! Hello! 
{Pause.) No, the pretty bird has gone home and left 
everything locked up tight this time. {Pause.) No, I 
haven't been drinking again! {Pause). What's that? 



132 THREE PLAYS 

You can tell by my voice! Can you smell my breath? 
(Pause.) Well, just one to steady my nerves. Don't 
worry about it! (Pause.) Everything O. K. Good! 
(Pause. ) Coming right down. AH right ! Good-bye I 
(Hangs up receiver. Executes awkwardly a step of a 
dance.) Three hundred and fifty thousand cold kaloons ! 
Oh ! it's almost too good to be true ! Joe Leavitt, you're 
a great man ! But it's a pity to give so much money to 
the girl! What would a woman do with all that money? 
Well ! Well ! Well ! I must go out and get a bromo seltzer 
before Caine gets here, or there will be the devil of a row. 
(Exit.) 

Dora. (Enters from closet.) How does Leavitt know? 
Caine told me he had bought the business from him. It 
was just a trick to deceive me, because the work could 
not be done without the engraving plant, and without 
Leavitt to make the plates and print off the sheets. I 
must have been a fool not to think of that. I ought to 
have known that there must be another person in the 
work besides Caine and me. Caine told me he had a 
man in his employ, and I didn't stop to think, or I should 
have known that Caine would not have risked that work 
and that knowledge with anyone. And to think that I 
have been made a tool — a partner with that monster ! Oh ! 
the humiliation ! The shame ! I should like to strike 
him dead ! They are coming ! I can't get away ! 

[Voices and footsteps are heard outside, and she goes 
into closet. Enter Caine and Leavitt.] 

Caine. (Throws lawyer's large cloth hag, bulging, on 
table.) There you are, my boy, the trick's done! 

Leavitt. How much is there? 

Caine. They will sell for more than a million dollars. 

Leavitt. Bravo ! Great ! But won't it hit the haughty 
Waters hard? 

Caine. Hit him? It will kill him! His own share 
of this pool is only a fifth; but if the courts hold him 
responsible for the loss of it all, it will ruin him. 

Leavitt. (Bitterly.) Well, it will do him good to 



THE CONSPIRATORS I33 

know how it feels to be poor and hungry, and it will be 
a new feeling for you and me to have money to burn. 
(Caine locks door, while Leavitt takes out a package of 
bonds and counts them silently.) A hundred, and every 
one worth over a thousand dollars ! Ah! (Gloatingly.) 
Life ! Joy ! Happiness ! Heaven ! all in this little bunch ! 
Come, Caine, give me my share, and let me go — let me 
get out ! 

Caine. (Takes bag from Leavitt.) Not so fast, my 
dear Adonis ! There's to be no sharing and no division, 
until the bonds are sold or otherwise disposed of. 

Leavitt. But why? Let each take his own share, 
and dispose of it in his own time. 

Caine. Not on your life, Joe Leavitt ! Our agree- 
ment was, that you and I were, between us, to sell these 
bonds in lots of five and ten thousand in New York, 
Philadelphia, Pittsburg, and Chicago. Now, that's the 
programme ! It can be done easily and safely within a 
week. 

[Dora opens door of closet slightly to hear conversa- 
tion. ] 

Leavitt. But why not each take his own, and dispose 
of them as he wishes. All I want is my share. 

Caine. It might be all right, my boy, but a slight 
blunder, or an extra cocktail on your part might give a 
clue, and cause me to be nabbed ; and so I must insist on 
the original compact being kept to the letter. 

Leavitt. (Sneeringly.) 1 didn't make a blunder 
selling those pink pearls, did I ? 

Caine. No, you're entitled to credit for that deal ! 

Leavitt. And you got your share without risk and 
trouble ? 

Caine. That's all right, old Jupiter Pluvius; but 
nevertheless, I am going to arrange all the details of this 
transaction. 

Leavitt. Well, I suppose it's all right! What's the 
programme ? 

Caine. After Waters sails tomorrow, we will each 



134 THREE PLAYS 

take a hundred of these and go to New York and sell them 
through different brokers. We will then take a bunch to 
Philadelphia and Chicago in the same way, until the lot 
are disposed of. 

Leavitt. But what shall we do with what are left 
here? 

Caine. They will be safe here in Miss Morris's care. 

Leavitt. But is it safe to leave them with her? 

Caine. They'll be safer than they would be with you, 
old Judas Maccabaeus. 

Leavitt. (With attempted dignity.) Oh! I don't 
know ! I don't put much stock in women ! 

Caine. Well, that goes anyway. Now, I must get 
back. Waters came home just as I got the stuff, and in 
my nervousness, I came away without locking the safe. 

Leavitt. You idiot ! Suppose he should see it. He 
would suspect something, and the game would be up. 

Caine. (Laughing.) He'd certainly think that I was 
careless. But he trusts me implicitly — and besides, if he 
opened the safe, he'd find his bonds apparently O. K. 

Leavitt. All right, rush along! I'll take care of the 
bonds. 

Caine. (With a snarl.) Oh, no, you don't. I've 
worked and waited for five years for just this, and I'm 
not going to deliver my future into your gentle hands. 

Leavitt. ( W^ith a snarl. ) Do you mean to insult me ? 

Caine. You can take it that way if you like, Joe. 

Leavitt. Look at here ! I'm not going to stand for 
this ! I'm not a thief ! 

Caine. No, you're President of the Chinatown Sun- 
day school, and all the rest of it; but you and I have 
engineered this deal to steal a million dollars from Ed- 
ward Waters and his syndicate, and I shouldn't like to 
tempt the honorable Joe Leavitt, formerly Joe Levi, with 
the possession of so much negotiable wealth. You might 
be tempted to fall from grace. 

Leavitt. Well, if yoti don't trust me, I ain't going 
to trust you, 



THE CONSPIRATORS 135 

Caine. Well, you've got to trust me until the deal's 
through. 

Leavitt. What are you going to do? 

Caine. I'm going to put this bag in the safe until 
tomorrow, and you are going to give me up the key to 
the inner door. 

Leavitt. I'll be shot if I do ! 

Caine. {Pointing pistol.) You'll be shot if you don't. 

Leavitt. Oh, all right. 

Caine. I'll meet you here after the boat sails — say, 
nine o'clock — and we can take the ten train to New York. 

Leavitt. Have it your own way — there's no need to 
quarrel about it now. We've been good friends a long 
time, and we'll make a pretty good thing out of this. 

Caine. Your head is level, Joe. (He goes to safe 
and works combination to open it. ) 

Leavitt. My head's splitting! I think I'll take 
another souse of cold water. {He goes to wash-basin, 
and washes hands and face. Caine has opened safe, un- 
locked inner door, and is counting packages before putting 
bag in safe.) Where are the towels? (Leavitt goes to 
closet where Dora is hiding, and tries to open door.) 

Caine. In the closet ! I wonder what's keeping Dora. 
I'll have a look around. 

[Leavitt tries to open door of closet, but cannot. He 
works himself into a rage, and at last bangs on door 
with his fist and snarls. He then turns round, takes 
up a chair to smash door. He poises the chair above 
his head. Enter Caine.] 

Caine. Keep quiet. Are you crazy to yell like that? 
Do you want to bring the police in? 

Leavitt. I'm nervous, that's all! 

Caine. Understand me, Leavitt. I've very nearly 
reached the limit of my endurance with you, and it would 
take but little more to make me chuck the whole thing up. 

Leavitt. I'll be all right! Lend me your handker- 
chief, I haven't got one. 

[Caine. gives him his handkerchief, and Leavitt dries 



136 THREE PLAYS 

his hands and face on it, then hands it back to Caine, 
who throws it in the waste basket. Leavitt picks 
it out and puts it in his pocket. Caine locks inner 
door of safe, and then shuts safe.] 
Now let's go ! 

Caine. All right, old man, but first, let me have that 
key. 

Leavitt. I forgot ! 

[Takes a key off his bunch, and hands it to Caine. 

He goes to door.] 
Caine. (Crosses to electric light button to turn out 
light.) But my memory is good! 

[They exeunt. Shut and lock door. Dora opens door 

of closet, and listens until their retreating footsteps 

die away, and the outer door is heard to bang.] 

Dora. {Runs to safe, and turns combination for some 

seconds. Then tries to turn the handle and fails.) I 

have missed it ! (She turns the knob rapidly again fof 

a few seconds, and again tries the handles.) Missed it 

again! I must have light! (Runs to button. Pauses.) 

No, if I turn up the light, they may see it and return. 

(Gets a m,atch. Runs to safe again, lights a match, 

holds it with one hand, and works the combination with 

the other. As match dies out, she drops it, tries handle, 

and the outer door opens. Then she takes key from her 

pocket, lights another m.atch, opens door, takes out bag 

and goes to centre door.) Now, it's my turn! 

curtain 



THE CONSPIRATORS 137 



ACT IV. 

[Same as ACT I. Half an hour later. Caine enters 
leisurely and looks round. Seeing no one, he makes 
a rush for the safe, and draws hack curtain which 
covers it.\ 

Caine. Still unlocked! It has escaped his attention! 
{Opens door, and peeps in.) All right! (Shuts doors, 
turns combination, and adjusts curtain. Enter Waters 
and Jack.) 

Jack. Hello, Caine, working away as usual. You're 
a devil of a fellow for work. 

Caine. How-do-you-do, Mr. Rich. Yes, work is my 
only pleasure. 

Jack. You're a lucky dog, Waters, to have such a 
man as Caine to do your drudgery. (He and Waters sit 
down.) 

Waters. Yes, he's been a great help to me lately, but 
I'm afraid he's worked too hard ; and while I am away 
from Boston, he will have a few weeks of much-needed 
rest that will do him good. 

Caine. I'm all right, sir; but I'm afraid you work 
too hard yourself, and you need a rest as much as I do. 

Waters. Yes, I'm pretty tired, and I expect to be 
greatly benefited by the long voyage. 

Jack. That's the reason you chose one of those slow 
old tubs from Boston? 

Waters. Yes, that's the reason. I say, Caine, you'd 
better change your mind, and sail with me in the morning. 

Caine. No, thank you, sir, I have made other arrange- 
ments. I'm going west to look after a little property I 
have in Chicago. 

Waters. All right, take it your own way. You can 



138 THREE PLAYS 

draw on me for five hundred in excess of your salary 
to help you to have a good time. 

Caine. {Shows signs of repentance.) You're very 
good, sir. 

Waters. Not at all! You're worth it and more! 
Now, run along to bed. I'll see you at breakfast in the 
morning. 

Jack. Good-night, Caine. 

Caine. Good-night, gentlemen. (Exits.) 

Waters. Light up, old man. 

Jack. Now, you old dog, there's something the matter 
with you besides business. You haven't been yourself 
for the past few months. 

Waters. Well, I've had some Httle private worries, 
but I'll be all right when I get away from here. 

Jack. You're not worrying about those bally old 
pearls, are you? 

Waters. Partly that, old man. 

Jack. Now, look here, you old rhinoceros, forget 
them ! I wouldn't have you worry yourself like this for 
six times the amount. 

Waters. Ah! it isn't the value that worries me so 
much, as the shattering of my ideals. 

Jack. (Seriously.) Oh, yes, the girl! You were 
badly hit there, weren't you? 

Waters. I don't know how to talk about it, old man, 
even with you. But I had allowed her presence to creep 
into my heart, and, in spite of what happened, then, and 
what has happened since, I can't forget her. 

Jack. Why don't you come out more, and have a 
good time ! There are lots more jolly, good girls, though, 
in my opinion, none of them is half good enough for you. 

Waters. Ah, Jack ! she was one in a million. I had 
watched her grow from childhood into budding youth and 
beautiful womanhood, and her mind kept pace in devel- 
opment with her body. She was capable of great things, 
and a noble woman withal — and yet she fell so easily. 
Ah I my poor hopes ! 



THE CONSPIRATORS 139 

Jack. Well, I'll be hanged if I believe she took those 
pearls, in spite of everything. 

Waters. You don't ? Ah, Jack ! I tried hard to be- 
lieve it, too, but this other affair shakes my confidence; 
and my business experience of the sex has taught me that 
woman is frail. 

Jack. Oh! you're too upright — you make me tired 
sometimes. Isn't man frail? Don't we do things every 
day, that we'd eternally damn our wives and sisters for? 
To the devil with reason and evidence! I don't believe 
she took the bally stones! (Pause.) I believe my old 
grand dam caused them to disappear, through spite at 
having broken her injunction. 

Waters. (Smiling.) You're a good fellow, Jack, 
and I wish there were more like you in the world. It 
does me lots of good to get away from the matter-of-fact 
people I meet in business, and to have an hour with a 
natural, whole-souled fellow like yourself. 

Jack. Have you ever heard from her since the trial? 

Waters. Not a word! Caine has had several dis- 
creet detectives looking for her, but she has disappeared 
completely. 

Jack. That is the best that could have happened, old 
man. 

Waters. Yes, I suppose so! If she had to stand 
trial before a jury, the facts of her identity would surely 
have come out, and given the yellow papers a glorious 
opportunity to roast a fallen aristocrat. But it troubles 
me to think that she will have to forfeit the bail and be 
defaulted, thus acknowledging the crime. 

Jack. It's a rotten shame, the whole business. Now, 
I must say goodnight — it's getting pretty late. 

Waters. Won't you stay here for the night? 

Jack. No thanks, old man, I won't trouble you, but 
I'll be at the boat in the morning to say good-bye. (From 
door. ) And, say, old man, if you don't find Miss Morris 
and marry her, I'll claim her myself! Begad! even 



I40 THREE PLAYS 

before I broke off with Helen, over that bally necklace, 
I often comitted treason in that direction. 

Waters. {Laughing.) Well, the field is still open, 
since you are unattached. You have as good a chance as 
anybody. 

Jack. Me as good a chance as anybody? Yes, I 
know I have — anybody but you ! Say, Waters, you're 
as blind as a bat — or can it be, that the light is too strong 
for your eyes? Good night, old man. 

Waters. Good night, and good rest! {Exit Jack.) 
It's stuffy in here, and this big house and these empty 
rooms begin to pall upon me. Well, I'll take a pipe and 
cool off, and then to bed. 

[Takes off his coat and throws it on a chair. Then 
turns light out, and sits down in hack corner near 
window. Dora's face appears at window. He takes 
pipe and tobacco jar, and slowly fills pipe. Strikes 
a match on his trousers, and just as it is lighting up, 
he hears the sound of someone entering the open 
window. He blows match out, and sits, transfixed, 
with match in one hand, and pipe in the other. Dora 
is seen to climb carefully through windozv. As he 
sees the shadow on the floor, he reaches back to the 
desk, and takes revolver which he holds ready. As 
Dora enters room, he pulls the white curtain partly 
over himself (he is dressed in white shirt and light 
flannel trousers).] 
Dora. Ah! this room is so familiar, and I used to 
love it so well. 

[She moves round darkened room, until she comes to 
the safe. She draws the curtain back, and feels for 
the handle.] 
It is locked ! 

[Waters turns on light, and points revolver at the 

crouching figure.] 
Waters. I'm sorry to disappoint you! {As Dora 
jumps to her feet and faces him, he drops revolver to 



THE CONSPIRATORS 141 

the floor.) My God ! Dora, again ! — just as a little hope 
was creeping into my heart. Woman ! Woman ! what 
fate do you deserve? 

Dora. {Calmly.) The penetentiary, I suppose. {In 
hard, hitter voice. ) Why don't you ring for the servants 
and send for the police? I am at your mercy. 
Waters. Have you no shame nor fear? 
Dora. {Lightly.) Shame? Am I not in the house 
of my old friend, Edward Waters? What have I to 
fear? Am I not already a convicted thief? Come, put 
an end to it ! There is the telephone ! Call the police ! 
Waters. {Angrily.) My God! Dora, this is worse 
than I thought ! Are you a blackmailer ? 

Dora. Oh ! no ! no ! don't believe that ! {She breaks 
down and cries. . .He walks up. and down, showing great 
worry. ) 

Waters. {Firmly.) Sit down! 

Dora. I won't! Send for the police, and give me in 
charge, or let me go ! 

Waters. ( Takes her with some roughness by the arm, 
and forces her into a seat. He stands over her. ) Would 
you be surprised to hear that I was thinking of you, 
when you so unceremoniously entered my window? 

Dora. {Slightly hysterically.) . Thinking of me? 
Why should you be thinking of me? 

Waters. I was thinking how much I missed you 
when you went out of my life. 

Dora. Out of your life! I was never in your life! 
Please let me go. 

[She tries to stand up, hut Waters puts her gently 

hack in the chair.] 
Waters. I am forced to believe that you have become 
a common thief — why, I cannot understand — it is beyond 
me. But, seing you here now, a burglar in my house, 
with the intent in your heart of breaking into my safe and 
ruining me, I still love you, I love you, Dora. 



142 THREE PLAYS 

Dora. (Hysterically.) Oh, no, no, no, don't torture 
me ! I don't believe it ! Let me go ! 

[Gets up and attempts to reach door, but Waters stops 
her.] 

Waters. Dora, don't go away! 

Dora. Please let me go! It is cruel to jest! 

Waters. Jest ! Oh darling, I was never more serious 
in my life! Can't you love me just a little bit? 

Dora. (Laughs hysterically.) Perhaps I could — if I 
were not a thief! How can you love a convict? 

Waters. I don't care what you are — you are the 
woman I love. If you stole, it was because you couldn't 
buy what you needed. As my wife, you will have wealth 
enough to gratify all your desires, and temptation cannot 
come your way. 

Dora. But if you loved me truly, you would not 
believe me guilty of theft and burglary. 

Waters. To do wrong, is part of our humanity. Let 
me guard you from temptation. You are all the world 
to me! 

Dora. That is not love ! You do not love me. 

Waters. Dora, dearest, I have loved you for years — 
you have been my ideal my hope. 

Dora. And yet you allowed yourself to believe me 
guilty of a vulgar crime. 

Waters. You can never know how hard I struggled 
to believe you innocent. But the facts — the evidence was 
so strong — so crushing. How could anyone of my train- 
ing believe otherwise. 

Dora. (Bitterly.) Love shouldn't yield to logic. 

Waters. But if our positions were reversed, you would 
have been compelled to believe me guilty. 

Dora. Never! The sworn oath of a thousand men 
would be as nothing against the word of the man I love I 
Oh ! the bitterness and pain of these long weeks when a 
little faith would have made our lives so different. 

Waters. But I loved you through it all — and craved 
for your love. Be mine, and I will have faith for ever. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 143 

Dora. But you believe me guilty of these horrible 
crimes ? 

Waters. I love you in spite of them, Dora. Do try 
to love me a little. {Takes her in his arms.) 
Dora. I do love you. 

Waters. Now that I know you love me, I will not let 
you out of my sight until we are man and wife. 

Dora. Yes, I love you, dearest, better than life or 
liberty. But now, release me from this bear-like hug 
of yours, because I want to talk to you like a man, and 
I cannot argue with you while you dominate me like this. 
Waters. Say you love me — like a woman, once more, 
and then you can talk to me like a man, if you wish. 

Dora. (Puts her arms round his neck. ) My darling, 
with all my heart. (Kisses him, then sits down. He 
tries to sit beside her.) No, no, I'm going to talk like a 
man. Sit over there — or, rather, go to the table, and look 
at the contents of the bag. 

[Waters goes to table and opens bag. He shows 

great astonishment as he exam,ines the bundles of 

bonds.] 

Waters. Bonds!. (Looks at numbers.) These are 

all of the syndicate's bonds. (Goes to safe.) The safe 

is locked! (Sits down and lights pipe.) Now,Madame 

la Magicienne, I am ready for an explanation of this 

mystery. 

Dora. The explanation is simple — I didn't take your 
bonds. 

Waters. You didn't? Oh, sweetheart, I am so 
pleased! But, I'm afraid you're taxing my imagination 
too much, Miss Burglar, when you say you didn't steal 
the bonds. 

Dora. I did steal them. 

Waters. Well, it was the quickest thing I ever heard 
of. I didn't think you had time to open the safe. 

Dora. I didn't take them from your safe. They were 
taken from there this evening. I stole them from the 
thieves. 



144 THREE PLAYS 

Waters. Ha ! Go on ! Who were the thieves ? 

Dora. I was one of them. 

Waters. Yes ? 

Dora. Your charming acquaintance, Mr. Leavitt, was 
another. 

Waters. I suspected his honesty, but I had to do 
business with him, as he is one of the best engravers in 
the country. Who next? 

Dora. Your charming and accomphshed confidential 
secretary, Mr. Caine. 

Waters. The devil ! 

Dora. Yes, I believe he is the devil ! Now, open 
your safe and the mystery will be further explained. 

Waters. (Opens safe and takes out bonds which he 
compares with others.) Duplicates! Forgeries! This 
is startling! (Throws one of the bundles on table.) 

Dora. Don't mix the counterfeits with the real bonds 
— you will never be able to tell them from the genuine. 

Waters. Who did these? 

Dora. Leavitt did the engraving and I did the forg- 
eries. 

Waters. Poor little girl ! What have you been 
through? How could you associate with such people? 

Dora. It is not a long story, and I will explain enough 
for you to understand all. Caine and Leavitt stole those 
pearls, and managed to throw suspicion on me. You 
know how I was ostracised, and, when, after father's 
death, mother and I were penniless, Caine helped us with 
money and sympathy, and he got me a position with 
Leavitt where my talent was useful. You know about 
my arrest and conviction on Leavitt's testimony, and, you 
know, also, that without my supposed connection with the 
pearls, I should never have been held by the court. 

Waters. Dear little woman, yoti shall have every 
reparation. 

Dora. And when my soul was filled with despair and 
anger against God and man^ and my mind too numb to 



THE CONSPIRATORS i45 

reason between right and wrong, Caine persuaded me 
to do this work. 

Waters. {Takes Dora in his arrAS.) Every hour of 
my life shall be devoted to you, sweetheart, so that you 
may forget the pain and punishment. As for Caine, I 
will settle with him now. 

Dora. Don't be hard on him ! Without his assistance. 
Mother and I would have suffered more than we did; 
and, if he hadn't bailed me out, I should have been still 
in prison. 

Waters. (Rings bell.) Yes, he bailed you out with 
my money. Now, go behind that screen for a moment. 
(Enter Servant.) Send Mr. Caine to me immediately. 
(Exit Servant.) When did he change the bonds? 

Dora. (Conies from behind screen.) Only this even- 
ing. When I discovered the real facts, I took the bonds 
and came here, determined to get them back to you some- 
how, and then I saw your window open, and without 
stopping to think, I entered. 

Waters. 'Twas a divine inspiration. Now, go into 
that room for a few minutes, dear. (Exit Dora. Enter 
Caine. He starts when he sees the bonds.) Well, Caine, 
you nearly got away with them ! 

Caine. What do you mean, sir? 

Waters. Cut that out, I tell you ! If I hear another 
hypocritical word, I'll knock your head off. 

Caine. (Surlily.) Well, what's up? 

Waters. Your friend, Leavitt is under arrest — 

Caine. The dirty, drunken pig! 

Waters. Here are my bonds returned with your 
beautiful copies. Have a look at them. 

Caine. (Takes a step to table.) The damned hound! 

Waters. He also confessed that you stole the pearls. 

Caine. Well, what if I did? I stole the pearls, and 
had a hand in these bonds. Now, do your worst ! 

Waters. And you were also in the plot with Leavitt 
to convict Miss Morris when she was charged with the 
larceny of Leavitt's money. 



146 THREE PLAYS 

Caine. Well, that's a lie ! I'll stand for my share of 
the racket, but none of his ! I worked on the girl's good 
nature, partly because we needed her services, and partly 
because I loved her and wanted to marry her. 

Waters. You cur ! 

Caine. If that's being a cur, I am a cur, and you're 
a great big Newfoundland dog. You were born with a 
silver spoon for your porridge, and a gold mug for your 
milk. What do you know about temptation? About the 
difference between good and bad? 

Waters. Keep your tongue quiet or I'll lose my 
temper, and break every bone in your yello^Y skin. 

Caine. Yes, I know you would. That's the big dog 
again worrying the poor little terrier. 

Waters. Caine, you're a scoundrel — a clever scoun- 
drel, but I could forgive you everything but the dragging 
of Miss Morris into this dirty business. I'll never for- 
give that ! Now, sit right down there immediately, and 
write a confession of your and Leavitt's part in this 
business. 

Caine. I won't! (Waters grabs him by the neck 
and chokes him savagely.) You'll kill me ! {Struggles.) 
Let me go ! 

Waters. (Throzvs him across room.) Now will you 
write that confession? 

Caine. No ! 

Waters. I want to remind you that Leavitt is going 
to turn State's evidence, and unless you get in ahead of 
him, he will get a light sentence, and you will pay the 
heaviest penalty. 

Caine. Well, I'll do it to spite him! 

[Goes to desk and writes for a few moments. Signs 
paper and hands it to Waters who reads it.} 

Waters. Now, get out of this house immediately, and 
I'll give you twenty-four hours to clear out of the state 
and hide your traces. At that time I'll hand this to the 
District Attorney. 

Caine. {From door.) Oh no, you won't, Mr. Waters. 



THE CONSPIRATORS 147 

Leavitt and I may have been accomplices in the forgery 
of these bonds, but Dora Morris's was the actual hand 
that did the work, and you can't send us away without 
sending her to keep us company. 

[Waters strides forward and grasps Caine by shoul- 
der. Looks in his eyes for a moment, turns him 
quickly round and pushes him out. As Caine exit, 
he sees Dora who comes from behind curtain and 
goes to Waters side. He puts his arm lovingly 
round her.] 
Oh ! it's all up now. 

Waters. ■ Well, sir, why don't you go? 
Caine. I haven't got enough to get me out of town, 
and I'm not a good walker. 

Waters. (To Dora.) What shall I do with the 
fellow, Dora? 

Caine. Speak a good word for me, Miss Morris. At 
the best, my Hfe will be a tough one. 

Waters. Come to my office in the morning. 
Caine. Thank you, sir. Miss Morris, Waters is the 
best fellow in the world. (Waters makes a step towards 
door, and Caine exit hurriedly.) 

Dora. Yes, the best in the world, and it's such a 
beautiful world tonight. 



curtain 



THE SUBTERFUGE 



A COMEDY DRAMA 



CAST OF CHARACTERS 



[Original Production.] 



Hugh Allen. 



George Dinsmere. 
Gregory Lieber. 

Major Dinsmere. 

Capt. Davies. 

Abraham Steiner. 
Joseph Wetherby. 

Smithers. 

Sergt. Williams. 



Kid Kaley. 
Policeman. 
Ticket Agent. 
Evelyn Seacrest. 
Mrs. Lieber. 
Marjorie Melville. 
Martha Jackson. 



An ex-soldier, U. S. A. Now a 

soldier of fortune. (These 

parts be doubled.) 
Insane son of Major Dinsmere. 
A lawyer and friend of Major 

Dinsmere. 
Father of George, and uncle and 

guardian of Evy. 
Beneficiary with Evy under their 

aunt's will. Ex-captain U. S. 
Hebrew real estate speculator. 
A friend and neighbor of the 

Dinsmeres. 
An old English soldier. Major's 

valet. 
Of the U. S. Infantry, formerly 

servant of Davies, and later 

bunky of Hugh in Philippines. 
A crook and a Cadet. 



Major's niece. 

A friend of Evy. 
An unfortunate girl. Afterward 
servant at Dinsmere's. 



A Girl Immigrant. 

A Woman Passenger. 

An Italian Fruit Peddler. 



ACT I. 

[Scene: A corner of Grand Central Station, two double 
benches in center — ticket office back center, mega- 
phone announcer near ticket window — telephone 
booth upper right, large time-tables on wall back. 

Enter woman with small bag. Negro porter grabs it and 
starts towards the exit — she following on the run. 
Italian fruit peddler with basket enters from right — 
policeman from left — as they pass, the policeman 
stops him and picks out some peaches. Jennie 
Hansen enters and sits down on seat right center.] 

Policeman. Say, what do you mean by selling such 
bum peaches. Not a word now. On your way, and 
don't let me catch you around here for a week. 

[Exit peddler and officer. Negro porter comes back. 
Enter fat woman with five or six bundles. She 
drops one, picks it up, and drops another.] 

Porter. Take your parcels, ma'am, right to the train. 

Woman. Keep away, young man, I don't need no 
help. {She keeps dropping parcels.) 

Porter. You better let me take them, ma'am, you'll 
lose your train. 

Woman. How much will you charge? 

Porter. Nothing — only you can give me a present — 
that's what, just a present. 

Woman. (Suspiciously.) How much of a present? 

Porter. Oh, just a quarter — a quarter would do 
nicely — although we sometimes gets fo' bits— that's from 
a real lady. 

Woman. A quarter ! No sir, get out of my way. 
(Drops another parcel.) Hey, young man, I'll pay you 
a nickel. 

151 



152 THREE PLAYS 

Porter. I'll go you ma'am, your on. {Takes up 
parcels.) And I swear to goodness I'll bore a hole in that 
nickel and wear it round my neck next to my heart. 
[Exit. Enter Officer and Hugh.] • 

Hugh. Can you tell me where the next train for Sing 
Sing starts from? 

Officer. Sing Sing — are you going up without an 
•escort ? 

Hugh. {Sarcastically.) Oh, kind sir, I'm not going 
to the prison — just to visit a friend near the river. 

Officer. Near the river? 

Hugh. Yes — if you are up that way — drop in. 

Officer. You're a wise guy all right — drop in — in the 
river — ha ha — that's a good one — I must spring that one 
on the Captain. 

Hugh. Yes — pretty good, and old enough to know 
better, — but how about the train. 

Officer. {Points to window.) Ask him. 

Hugh. When is the next train for Sing Sing? 

Clerk. Just gone — another in a half an hour. 

Hugh. Well I may as well wait here where it's warm. 

[Sits down zvith back to girl. Picks up paper and 
begins to read. Enter a Cadet, who sees the girl 
and walks around sizing her up. He sits near her 
and opens a paper and pretends to read. ] 

Cadet. Say, Miss, do you know when the next train 
goes to Boston? 

Jennie. No, sir. 

Cadet. Pardon me, but aren't you Miss {reads name 
on her tag) Hansen? 

Jennie. Yes, sir — that's my name. 

Cadet. Glad to meet you. {Tips his hat.) Gee, but 
I'm lucky to have met you. 

Jennie. But I don't understand. 

Cadet. You don't? Didn't you expect to meet some- 
one here? 

Jennie. Yes, my cousin Mary Hansen telegraphed to 



THE SUBTERFUGE 153 

the ship that she couldn't get down, and would meet me 
here. 

Cadet. Sure — sure — that's it — and didn't she tell you 
about me? 

Jennie. No, sir, here's the telegram. 

Cadet. (Reads.) Jennie Hansen. Steerage S. S. 
Oceanic — Mistress sick — can't meet boat, will meet you 
at Grand Central Station, near ticket office at eight 
o'clock. Mary Hansen. 

Cadet. Well, she couldn't come some way, as the 
missus got worse, so she sent me. 

Jennie. Oh dear, what shall I do? 

Cadet. That's all right, my dear — nothing to worry 
about — she asked me to take you to my mother's until 
morning, when she'll come for you herself and fix things 
up. 

Jennie. {Doubtfully.) I don't know what to do. 

Cadet. Come on, now — everything's all fixed nice and 
comfy. 

[He picks up her hag and she follows him towards 
Left exit. Enter Martha from Left, and meets 
them. ] 

Martha. Hello, kid — where are you going? 

Cadet. I'm busy now, Martha — I'll see you later. 

Martha. {To Jennie.) And where are you going? 

Jennie. This gentleman is a friend of my cousin, and 
is taking me to his mother's until morning. 

Martha. {Sarcastically, to Jennie.) Oh, I see. {To 
Cadet.) Another victim, kid — ain't you afraid the 
ground will open and swallow you? 

Cadet. Cut it out, Martha, and fade away. {To 
Jennie.) Come, Miss — it's getting late. 

Martha. Come back, girl, I want to talk to you. 

Cadet. Never mind her. Miss Hansen — she's crazy. 
Mother will be waiting dinner for us. 

Martha. Hear me, girl. 

Cadet. {Gets between them and whispers.) If you 
say another word, I'll smash you. 



154 THREE PLAYS 

Martha. Smash away, you cowardly beast. 

[Cadet draws his hand hack as if to strike. Hugh 
has been watching and listening.^ 

Martha. I dare you — take a chance now hke a real 
sport, and see how quick you'll land in the wagon. 

Cadet. {Pleadingly.) Ah, Martha, be good, ain't I 
always been on the level with you? {Severely.) Cut it 
out and attend to your own business. 

Martha. {Bitterly.) My business? 

Cadet. Yes — yes — get on your beat — ^beat it. 

Martha. Yes, thanks to you, my Business is here, 
and my beat in the street, and that's where you'll have 
that poor wretch in a few days. 

Cadet. Oh, you make me sick when you're senti- 
mental. 

Martha. I'll make you sick tonight anyhow, for you 
must quit that girl — she looks virtuous — so now let her 
stay so. 

Cadet. Virtuous — Rot — there's no such thing — some 
women think they're virtuous, but they're only cold. 

Martha. You're the filthiest thing that crawls the 
earth — fouler than a vulture and more venomous than a 
rattlesnake— more dangerous to society than the plague — 
God must indeed be good to permit such as you to exist. 

Cadet. {In a harsh whisper.) Another word, and 
I'll break your face, you — look here, I'll set the gang on 
you and then you know what will happen. 

Martha. Go on to your gang. Girl, if you value 
your soul, don't go with that man. 

[Cadet strikes Martha. The girl has shrunk away 
during the argument. Hugh jumps up and gives the 
Cadet a punch which staggers him, up to announcer. 
Cadet draws knife and is crouching, when announcer 
shouts behind him.] 

Announcer. All aboard for Boston on the Shore 
Line. 

[Cadet is startled and jumps around. Hugh springs 
forward and twists the knife out of his hand and 



THE SUBTERFUGE 155 

stands hack. The Cadet turns again and pulls a 
revolver, then the ticket window is opened with a 
hang. He jumps around again with fists on guard 
and spars at an imaginary foe and Hugh kicks the 
gun out of his hand. Martha picks it up — Cadet 
sees officer coming and exit left. A woman enters 
from right and runs to Jennie and hugs her. They 
exit. ] 
Martha. Here comes the Cop. (To Hugh.) You're 
all right, and I wish you every luck. 
Officer. Well, still here, I see. 
Hugh. Yes — your eyesight is good yet. 
Officer. My eyes are all right, but wow — wow — I'm 
suffering tortures. 

[Enter Bum who approaches Hugh.] 
Bum. Can you spare a dime, boss — I haven't had a 
thing to eat since the day before yesterday. 
Hugh. Nothing doing. 
Bum. Well, then, a nickel. 

Hugh. Not a penny for you. Why, man, the flies 
are getting a good drink by just gliding across your mouth 
and getting your breath. 

Bum. Well, then, spare the makings. 
Hugh. The what? 

Bum. The makings — just a little dust — I ain't had a 
smoke since New Year's. 

Hugh. I'm sorry — I haven't a scrap — It's so long 
since I've had a smoke, I've forgotten the taste of a cigar. 
Bum. Oh, gwan, who youse kiddin'. I kin see you 
had a clean shave today. 

Hugh. Yes, but what's that got to do with a smoke? 
Bum. Who'd pay ten cents for a shave unless he'd 
plenty of coin? 

Hugh. {Laughing.) Well, I see your point of view, 
but anyhow I wasn't so extravagant, as I shaved myself. 
Bum. Got a razor — let's see it — I know where I can 
get a quarter for it — I'll show you for a dime. 
Hugh. {Laughing.) No thanks — get out. 



156 THREE PLAYS 

Bum. Well, for a nickel. 

Hugh. Go on, go on, work on the other side of the 
street. 

Bum. You're no sport — I'll bet you're a fly cop. 

Hugh. Go on now, — chase yourself or I may use that 
razor to take a souvenir off your hide. {Steps towards 
Bum who exit. Hugh sits down and bends his head. 
Officer enters from Left, bending over in pain.) 

Hugh. What's the matter? Booze? 

Officer. Booze? No — I've had nothing but a peach. 

Hugh. A peach eh! Blonde or brunette? 

Officer. You're a bum guesser. This was just a 
little green peach I took away from a dago. 

Hugh. Green and fresh from the country — that's 
what they all say round here. (Policeman hiccoughs 
several times.) 

Officer. That's tough ! Hiccough ! I got something 
else now. 

Hugh. Oh, that's nothing — just a spasm of the 
diaphragm — 

Officer. Spasm of the what? (Hiccoughs.) 

Hugh. Spasm of the di-a-phragm — (Slowly.) 

Officer. What the — what's that? (Hiccough.) 

Hugh. That's it. 

Officer. That — why that's the hiccough. 

Hugh. Yes — that's the common name. 

Officer. Say — are you trying to kid me, young 
feller? 

Hugh. Kid you, ofificer — oh, no — I never would do 
anything like that. 

Officer. I believe you — say it again. 

Hugh. Hiccoughs? 

Officer. No, the other name. 

Hugh. Oh, spasm of the diaphragm. 

Officer. Spasm of the doif-um. 

Hugh. No, no, dia-phragm. 

Officer. Di-a-phragm. Di-a-phragm. Di-a-phragm. 

Hugh. What's the matter? Rehearsing? 



THE SUBTERFUGE 157 

Officer. Say, I'm going to spring that on the 
Captain. Dia- dia- dia — aw Hell! I'll never remember 
it. 

Hugh. Take another chance — spasm of the dia-phragm. 

Officer. Di-a-phragm — diaphragm — diaphragm. (Exit 
thoughtfully. Hugh exit. Lt. Lieber and Major enter 
from Right.) 

Lieber. (Looking at his watch.) Ten minutes too 
early, Dinsmere. I telegraphed my wife and Evy to meet 
us here at eight o'clock in time for the show. 

Major. I'm almost afraid to meet the girl, Lieber. 
Two years ago, the last time I visited her in Montreal, 
her questions about George were most embarrassing. I 
had to begin with a lie and I had to invent a hundred 
others to strengthen the first. 

Lieber. She is the most charming girl I ever knew; 
and her intellect is keen, in spite of the fact that she 
has spent her whole youth within the walls of a convent, 
and knows nothing of the world. 

Major. I have been hoping against hope that my poor 
boy would regain his reason, so that he might marry her ; 
and for that reason I was strict in my injunctions to the 
Superior to allow Evy to have no intercourse socially, 
except with the nuns. 

Lieber. She is like a rose, ready to burst forth into 
full beauty with the first breath of sunshine. 

Major. Do you think it would be safe to marry her 
to George, anyhow? 

Lieber. I wouldn't risk it, my friend. The girl has 
character, and no ordinary appeal would be sufficient to 
make her do something which she thought was wrong. 

Major. Oh, if George would only get better for a 
week. 

Lieber. Yes, if George were only even moderately 
sane for a week, we might risk it, as nobody but ourselves 
and Smithers has knowledge of his insanity. 

Major. You forget Davies — the scoundrel. 

Lieber. Yes, I overlooked him for a moment. 



158 THREE PLAYS 

Major. Damn him. Look here, Lieber. Have you 
any doubt as to who struck down my boy on that awful 
night ? 

Lieber. Not a particle. Davies or an agent of his. 
He is guilty morally and legally, but we haven't a particle 
of evidence. 

Major. I don't need any more evidence. I can hardly 
control myself from loading my gun and going after him 
myself. 

Lieber. Keep calm. Let us walk round the block. 
The ladies will not be here for a few minutes yet, and we 
can talk this thing over. 

[Exit Major and Lieber. Enter Evy and Mrs. 
Lieber. Enter Hugh zvho passes them, starts and 
stares at Evy. ] 

Mrs. Lieber. I'll just telephone to the office, dear, and 
make sure they left there. {Exit to booth.) 

Hugh. {Sits down, picks up paper again, watches 
Evy from behind it.) Such beauty. 

[Enter Davies half drunk. He leers at Evy as he 
passes. ] 

Davies. Devilish pretty girl, that, by Jove. Looks as 
if she might just have come from a hot-house. {He 
turns back and takes off his hat to Evy^ saying. ) Pardon 
me. Miss, could you tell me the way to the Manhattan 
Hotel? 

Evy. I am sorry I cannot, as I am a stranger in New 
York. 

Davies. Oh, are you, though? Won't you let me 
show you a few of the sights? 

Evy. {Turning away.) No, thank you, I am waiting 
for friends. 

Davies. {Walking after her and taking her arm.) 
Let me be your friend, my dear. 

Evy. {Pulling her arm away from him, and turning 
away.) Go away, please. I don't know you, and you 
frighten me. 



THE SUBTERFUGE i59 

Davies. Don't be frightened, my dear, I wouldn't hurt 
you. I am a gentleman. 

EvY. If you are a gentleman, you will leave me at 
once. 

Davies. Come and have a glass of wine, my dear, and 
then I'll leave you if you wish. 

[Hugh is poised to interfere, when Mrs. Lieber enters 
from booth.] 

Hugh. The brute, he deserves a licking. 

EvY. Ah, here comes Mrs. Lieber. (Runs towards 
Mrs. Lieber. Davies goes out.) 

Mrs. Lieber. Evy, my dear, I'm so sorry you're 
frightened. I couldn't get anyone on the 'phone. What 
has happened? 

EvY. I was frightened by a drunken man, Mrs. Lieber ; 
and oh, I'm so glad you came out. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes, I saw the end of the incident as 
I left the booth. 

EvY. I have not seen Uncle George or Mr. Lieber. 
They left the office an hour ago. 

Mrs. Lieber. Let us go outside. They may be wait- 
ing for us there. 

[Exeunt. Evy stands at the exit for a moment, and 
looks hack at Hugh,, zvho looks at her. He then 
pulls his belt in another hole, and sits down.] 

Hugh. Another day gone, and no work, no hope. 
Another hole taken in my belt. One quarter left. 
Shall I spend it at the theatre, so that I may drive this 
despairing mood away? Or shall I dine like a king to- 
night, and let tomorrow come what may? I will dine. 
I am hungry — and yet — if I go to the theater, I may see 
her face again. Let the fates decide. {Tosses coin.) 
Heads for theater, tails for dinner. 

{Enter Lieber. As coin falls, a passing tramp jumps 
on it, and tries to run away with it. Hugh grabs 
hitn and a short scuffle ensues, which is interrupted 
by an officer.] 

Officer. Here, what's the meaning of this? 



i6o THREE PLAYS 

Tramp. {Whiningly.) Wasn't me, officer, s'help me. 
The quarter is mine. It fell out of my hand, and this 
bloke here tries to take it away from me. 

Officer. Say, is that your little game! You'll get 
thirty days on the island for this. 

Hugh. It's ridiculous, officer. I tossed the coin and 
dropped it, and this fellow grabbed it. 

Officer. Well, I'll take you both to the station, and 
let the magistrate decide. (Hugh shrugs his shoulders.) 

LiEBER. {Who has entered and seen the whole inci- 
dent.) That one {Pointing to Hugh) is telling the truth. 
I saw the whole thing. 

Officer. {Touching his helmet.) All right, Mr. 
Lieber, I'm glad you saw it. Move along there. 

[Lieber takes Major's arm and walks on. They look 
furtively at Hugh who walks up and leans on rail- 
ing near ticket window.] 

Major. {To Lieber.) Marvelous. 

Lieber. Startling. 

Major. {Looking at his watch.) The ladies ought 
to have been here before now. 

Lieber. We shall have time to finish our conversation, 
let's walk round the block again. {They go out at Left.) 

[Sergeant of infantry who has seen the incident, 
touches Hugh on the shoulder.] 

Sergeant. Hullo, Allen, old chap. You don't seem 
to have been in luck since you left the old regiment. 

Hugh. {Grasping his hand.) I am glad to see you, 
Williams. Yes, I have had lots of luck — bad luck — and 
a man needs lots of the other kind to enable him to make 
an honest living. 

Sergeant. I thought you'd gone back to Virginia. 

Hugh. Virginia — don't remind me of home, old man. 
They're all dead and gone. I haven't a friend in the 
world — or a dollar. 

Sergeant. Are you broke, old boy? 

Hugh. No, not quite. I've still enough to buy the 
drinks, but it's my last quarter. Why, the scoundrel got 



THE SUBTERFUGE i6i 

away with it after all. I was so surprised when the cop 
grabbed me, that I lost my head and my quarter. 

Sergeant. Well, your luck's bound to turn now ; and 
I'm going to be in on the winning side. So here you are, 
old man. Let me be your banker. It's only a dollar, 
but tomorrow's pay day, and I've got enough to see me 
home. 

Hugh. That's very good of you, old chap, but I hate 
to— 

Sergeant. Don't say a word about it. When you 
get rich, you know where to send it. Let's go and have 
a drink, and talk over old times. 

[As they go out, they pass the Major and Lieber, who 
enter front Left.] 

Major. (Standing, looking after Hugh.) Why, 
Lieber, it's the most remarkable resemblance I've ever 
seen. When the officer grabbed him, I could hardly re- 
frain from rushing forward and calling him George. 

Lieber. Yes, he certainly bears a remarkable likeness 
to your son. But there is a difference which I cannot 
fathom at the moment. 

Major. It's his eyes, man. It's the look of intelli- 
gence that he has, and which my poor boy lost that dread- 
ful night three years ago. 

Lieber. Ah, Dinsmere, if it weren't for that, your 
troubles would be easily ended. 

Major. The worry and suspense will upset my mind, 
Lieber. I think I will throw up the sponge, and let that 
rascal Davies have the girl and the money; although, as 
sure as I am of my own existence, it was he who struck 
poor George that fatal night. 

Lieber. Cheer up, old friend ; we've still got a month, 
and something may happen in that time. 

Major. I can't see a ray of light. The latest letter 
from Smithers shows George to be hopelessly insane; 
and so violent that he had to be kept under restraint all 
the time. 

Lieber. You were lucky to get him home before he 



i62 THREE PLAYS 

became violent. Now that he is locked away in the old 
West Room, no one need ever know that he is not yet 
travelling in Japan and the Philippines. 

Major. I'm sure that Davies knows, although, of 
course, he dare not show any suspicion, or ask any ques- 
tions, as that would show a guilty knowledge of the boy's 
condition. 

LiEBER. Ah, here come the ladies, at last ! Let us see 
them to their seats, and then we can finish our chat 
between the acts. 

[Enter Mrs. Lieber and Evy.] 

Major. (To Evy, kissing her.) I am heartily glad 
to see you, my dear; although you have grown to be 
such a woman I hardly know you. 

Evy. I shall be glad to get to the country, dear uncle. 
This big city overwhelms me, and I was dreadfully 
frightened by a drunken man while I was waiting for you. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes, I went into a telephone booth, and 
while I was there, Evy got a scare. 

Lieber. Let us go to the theater, my dear, that will 
be the best cure for worries. Fifteen minutes of the 
show will make you forget the worries that exist in this 
old world of ours. (All exit.) 

Davies. (Half inebriated, entering zvith a shabby 
woman.) Hang you, will you go away, and not worry 
me any more. 

Martha. Oh, Captain Davies, I beg of you in your 
mother's name to come with me and see my poor sister. 
She will not be comforted by anyone, and cries out your 
name in her delirium. 

Davies. Will you go away? I will come and see her 
tomorrow or the next day. 

Martha. She may be dead then. 

Davies. I hope so. 

Martha. You wretch. You will be lying at death's 
door yet, in torments as you have brought that innocent 
girl. She lies in the agony of childbirth, even now full of 
faith and love for you, who have blighted her young life. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 163 

Davies. Damn you, will you shut up ! You will call 
a crowd around us with your cursed noise. 

Martha. Let them come. I will proclaim my sister's 
sorrow and your shame from the housetops, and I will 
follow you wherever you go, until I shame you into doin' 
what's right by her. 

Davies. {To Officer who has entered Left.) Officer, 
will you send that woman away. She is annoying me by 
begging. (Exit.) 

Officer. (Pushing Martha.) Get along, now, or 
I'll take you to the station. 

[Enter Smithers. He catches her as she is about to 
fall] 

Smithers. Why, hullo, Martha, my girl, what brings 
you here? (To Officer.) And what do you mean by 
pushing a decent girl along like that? 

Officer. If you know her, you'd better see her home, 
because if I see her in the street again tonight, I'll run 
her in. 

Smithers. Run her in, will yer. I'd like to see yer. 
Why, what has she been a-doin' of? 

Officer. She's been begging. A man made a com- 
plaint of her. 

Smithers. I don't believe it. 'Taint true, Martha, is 
it ? Say it ain't, and I'll cop the cop one on the blooming 
eye. 

Martha. 'Taint true, Bill. But take me away, please, 
for I'm afraid Til fall down in the street. 

[They all go out. Enter Major and Lieber. ] 

Major. I feel mean about sending them to the theater 
alone. 

Lieber. Well, old friend, we can join them in a few 
minutes, and I couldn't sit still with this business of yours 
on my mind. And, besides, I have an idea that may 
help us. 

Major. As I understand the will, Evy must be mar- 
ried before her twenty-first birthday to inherit the for- 
tune. 



i64 THREE PLAYS 

LiEBER. Yes, and if she marries your son George, you 
get a legacy of $200,000, which will enable you to clean 
Sp the encumbrance on the place, and realize your 

holdings. . 

Major. Yes, and if she should marry Davies, we 
should lose everything. tvt • 5 

LiEBER. Not much consolation to that, is there. Major .'' 

Major. No, indeed; but what if she should marry a 
stran^^er? 

LiEBER. In that case Davies would get everything, 
unless he had been married himself. 

Major. I wish we could persuade her to marry 
George. They need never live together. 

LiEBER. You don't know the giri. Major. She is far 
too high-spirited and romantic, in spite of her youth. 
And, besides, the marriage would be utterly void and 
worthless. , . 

Major. I can easily understand how desperate crimi- 
nals are made, Lieber. I feel in a mood to perpetrate 
almost any crime to thwart that rascal, and save my 
property at the same time. But you said you have some 
new plan. 

Lieber. I have an idea, but it is dangerous ; and might 
cost us both our liberty. {Enter Abraham.) 

Abraham. {Interrupting.) Good evening, Major. 
How do you do, Mr. Lieber. 

Major. Hullo, Abraham. How are you? 

Abraham. Very well. Major, thank you. I'm glad 
to see you. 

Major. I'm hanged if I'm glad to see you. 

Abraham. Veil you vere vonce, and you may be 
again. When are you going to pay me this note. 

Lieber. I didn't know you owed this fellow anything 
beside that mortgage. 

Abraham. Ah, Mr. Lieber, it's only a thousand 
dollars. 

Major. Oh, I was five hundred dollars short when 
the interest was due on that wretched mortgage, and he 



THE SUBTERFUGE 165 

jewed me out of a note for a thousand dollars. But it 
is not due for a few weeks yet. 

Abraham. Oh yes, ain't it, Major Dinsmere. It were 
due the day before yesterday, and it must be paid, or I 
will sue on it right away. 

Major. I can't pay you now. 

Abraham. I need the money. Why can't you pay me 
something on account? 

Major. I can't do it. I haven't a dollar to spare 
just now. 

Abraham. Major, your mortgage is due in four 
months from now. How are you going to pay me the 
fifty thousand dollars? 

Major. Go away, man. Time enough to talk about 
that when it is due. 
Abraham. Well, this here note is due. Pay me that. 
LiEBER. Bring it to my office in the morning, and I 
will pay it. 

Abraham. {To Lieber.) Oh, thank you, Mr. Lieber. 
{Aside.) Oh, damn you, Mr. Lieber. {To Major.) 
What would you say if I were to give you five thousand 
for your equity above the mortgage? It would be a pity 
to foreclose, as it would spoil the market value of the 
place. 

Major. Ha, ha, hear the fellow. You are joking, 
Abraham. The place has been in my family for two 
hundred years, and I would rather lose my life, than that 
It should fall into the hands of such as you. 

Abraham. Yes, but times are hard, and money tight. 
Major Dmsmere; and it wouldn't bring more than that at 
auction just now. 

Major. Go away, man. Your mortgage will be paid 
when the time comes. 

Abraham. {As he exit.) Ah, veil, if it ain't, I will 
foreclose, and get the property any vay. But it's a pity. 
Vill you take seventy-five thousand? 

Major. {Walking toward Jew with uplifted stick.) 
Go away, damn you. 



i66 THREE PLAYS 

Abraham. Ah, very veil. But my time is coming. 
(Exit.) 

Major. (Desperately.) Lieber, you must think of 
some method of aranging this marriage. I would do 
anything short of murder to save the old place. 

Lieber. Here he comes again. By heavens, I feel 
like taking the risk. (Enter Hugh.) 

Major. What risk — explain? 

Lieber. (To Hugh.) Come here, my man. You 
look like an intelligent fellow. Are you employed. 

Hugh. No, sir — I wish I were. 

Lieber. What's your name, and where do you hail 
from? 

Hugh. Hugh Allen of Virginia. The last and poor- 
est of my race. 

Lieber. What can you do? Have you a trade? 

Hugh. Trade? Yes, the trade of a soldier. But 
that's no good except in times of war. 

Lieber. You seem to be well educated. 

Hugh. Yes. I am a college graduate, and held the 
rank of Sergeant- Major in the army. 

Major. (Aside to Lieber.) By Geoffry, the resem- 
blance is startling. I never knew of such a coincidence. 
A little thinner and more upright, but with a few weeks 
of coaching, and a well-cut suit of clothes, his own 
mother, were she alive, wouldn't know the difference. 

Hugh. I would make a good clerk, sir, and I have 
had some experience in that direction. In fact, I have 
had three months' experience as a law clerk, since I left 
the army. 

Lieber. Law clerk, eh? I am a lawyer, and I have 
room for another clerk. 

Hugh. I thought you were, sir. 

Major. (To Lieber.) His powers of observation 
are good. 

Lieber. Have you any references? Why did you 
leave your place as a law clerk? 



THE SUBTERFUGE 167 

Hugh. The head clerk insulted me without reason, 
and — 

[Clenches his fist, and makes motion of striking.] 

Major. (Aside.) He's got backbone too; oh, 
George, my boy, wouldn't I be proud and happy if you 
were only like him. 

Hugh. I left the army six months ago, and here is my 
discharge. 

LiEBER. (Reading.) Hm! character exemplary. 
Have you any other employment? 

Hugh. No, I have had nothing to do for nearly three 
months past. 

LiEBER. Suppose the employment I were to offer you 
was something different from a clerkship — something 
adventurous — dangerous ? 

Hugh. Danger, adventure, nothing would suit me 
better. 

Major. But would you break the law for a considera- 
tion? 

Hugh. It depends upon that law. Some laws are 
morally good — some bad. It is a virtue to break some 
of them. 

LiEBER. Hold on, young man. The laws are made by 
the majority in their wisdom. 

Hugh. Yes, but if the virtuous were in a majority 
the rest of us would have a hell of a time. 

LiEBER. Quite a philosopher, I see. 

Major. But suppose it were something now, ahem — 
not exactly — ahem — what might be considered honorable? 

LiEBER. (Crossing between Major and Hugh.) 
Hold on, my friend; I'll do the interrogating. 

Hugh. Honor is for the rich, and honesty for the 
well-to-do. I pawned the only things in the world I 
valued — my mother's wedding-ring for a few cents yes- 
terday. I have been honorable up to today, and I have 
been hungry and thirsty, but the day after tomorrow I 
may be starving. I have starved and suffered in Cuba 
and the Philippines without a murmur, but it would take 



i68 THREE PLAYS 

a more complacent philosopher that me to starve in the 
midst of plenty. I am an honest man tonight, but in a 
week — who can tell — 

LiEBER. By Jove, he's the man for my money, {To 
Hugh.) Here are a couple of birds that will grant some 
of your most urgent demands. {Gives him two ten-dollar 
gold- pieces.) 

Hugh. All money talks, but the eagle screams 
{Jingles the coins.) and sings the sweetest song on earth 
when you're broke. 

LiEBER. Wait ten minutes, and I think I will be able 
to give you employment. 

[Major and Lieber zvalk aside. Hugh looks at mo- 
ney, rattles it, etc. Enter Williams from Left.] 

Hugh. You're the one man in New York I'm glad 
to meet. Open your hand, old man, and take this. 
{Claps one of the eagles into his hands.) 

Sergeant. {Astonished.) What! A ten-dollar 
piece? Have you found a gold mine since I last saw you? 

Hugh. No, I have just met a rich relative. Come 
along, and have a drink, my friend, and we'll empty 
another glass to the old regiment. 

[They go out. Enter Major and Lieber.] 

Major. With your brains, and your knowledge of the 
law, Lieber, I am sure it would be perfectly safe. 

Lieber. It's just my knowledge of the law that makes 
me tremble for the consequence of failure. It would be 
a great game. Major; but the stake is too heavy for me. 
After all I have no personal interest in the matter, except 
as your friend. 

Major. Not only friendship, Lieber, but half of my 
share is yours if we win. 

[Enter Davies^ still showing effects of drink.] 

Davies. Hullo, Major. 

Major. How-do-you-do, Davies. You know Mr. 
Gregory Lieber, don't you? 

Davies. {Staring Lieber from head to foot.) Yes, 
I think I have seen him somewhere; but I never allow 



THE SUBTERFUGE 169 

myself to be introduced to lawyers. All damned vam- 
pires ; they bleed you, you know. 

LiEBER. Not such vampires as men of your cloth and 
breed, sir; and I hope I'll see the day when you'll need 
some lawyer to save your wretched neck from the gallows. 
(Enter Hugh, who walks up and studies timetable.) 

Davies. Oh, damnation, don't bother. Have a smoke. 

[Offers LiEBER a cigar. The latter dashes it from his 
hand, and walks up stage to Hugh. They talk and 
exit together. ^^ 

Davies. What's the fellow angry about? I said 
nothing to insult him. 

Major. Oh no ! you're a perfect gentleman. 

Davies. Yes, I'm always a perfect gentleman. How's 
George, Major? Still in the Holy Land? Holy fellow, 
George. He's got a hole in his head, hasn't he? 

Major. Yes scoundrel, he has, thanks to you. 

Davies. Don't get mad. Major. Say, when are you 
going to bring back my wife from Montreal? 

Major. ( With interest. ) Your wife, Davies ! I 
didn't know you were married. 

Davies. Ha, ha, ha! good joke, old man. You know 
who I mean. Evy Seacrest, whom my grand-aunt picked 
out for me. Pretty good of her, wasn't it? 

Major. {With suppressed anger.) But you haven't 
got her yet, Davies, and you may never get her. You 
know that it was her grand-aunt's wish that she should 
make a choice between you and George, and he will be 
home in a few weeks to ask her to be his bride. 

Davies. Ha, ha, ha! that's a pretty good joke. 
George can't marry anybody. George has wheels — crazy. 

Major. That's a strange idea to have, Davies. What 
made you think so? 

Davies. You can't fool me, Major. I know all about 
it. George has been out of the running these three years. 

Major. You know that, do you? 

Davies. Yes, I know, Major — at least I know he was 



I70 THREE PLAYS 

off his head three years ago, and I have no proof of his 
recovery. 

Major. (Angrily.) Thanks to you, damn you, my 
boy was nearly killed — but he recovered. 

Davies. All rot, old man. I had nothing to do with it. 
I was a hundred miles away when it was done. 

Major. If you were, you were well served in your 
fiendish work. 

Davies. All nonsense. Major. You can't prove I had 
anything to do with it, but it means much to me whether 
he's sane or insane now, and I believe he is still a lunatic. 

Major. (Clenching his hands, and showing signs of 
trying to keep calm.) Well, Davies, you're mistaken. 
He's as sane as you are. But even if he shouldn't marry 
Evy, she may marry someone else — or — she may not 
marry at all. 

Davies. Hurrah, all the better, all the better. Then 
I'll get the old girl's cash. You can have the kid yourself, 
Dinsmere, and I'll give you a thousand dollars for a 
wedding present to buy sticking plaster for George's sore 
head. 

[Major strikes Davies, and the latter grasps the 
Major and is choking him when Hugh and Lieber 
enter. Hugh runs forward and, catching Davies, 
hurls him aside. Davies picks himself up and runs 
toward Major, hut Hugh stands between them.] 

Davies. (To Hugh.) Great Caesar, who are you? 

Lieber. (Triumphantly.) Have you forgotten 
George Dinsmere? 

curtain 



THE SUBTERFUGE 171 



ACT II. 

[Scene: Drawing-room at Dinsmere's house. Mrs. 
LiEBER sitting on low chair, embroidering. Evy 
jumps up, runs to window, peers out.] 

Evy. I think I hear the wheels on the gravel. 

Mrs. Lieber. Curb your impatience, my dear. It is 
not yet four o'clock, and the train does not arrive at the 
station till three-fifty — so they would not have time to 
get here yet. 

EvY. Oh, I am just dying to see George, and to hear 
all about his travels. You remember it's over four years 
since I last saw him. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes, I remember the last time he was 
here before his injury, poor fellow. 

EvY. Oh, yes, wasn't it dreadful. I remember crying 
and crying until my eyes were sore, and when he was 
brought back here, I shall never forget the dreadful cries 
he uttered in his delirium. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes, it was very sad for my old friend, 
Major Dinsmere, to have his only boy brought back like 
that. I felt as sad as I would over my own boy. 

EvY. It must have nearly killed Uncle George. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes indeed. We thought that for a few 
days his mind would be unbalanced too ; and no wonder, 
when he had built such hopes on his only boy. And, of 
course you know, my dear, that not only was the Major's 
love wounded, but his fortune depended on George being 
able to marry you. 

EvY. Yes, yes, I know; that dreadful will. I hate 
to think of it. Sometimes, do you know, it almost makes 
me dislike George. 

Mrs. Lieber. Oh, nonsense, my dear; such arrange- 
ments are of every-day occurence, and it would be terrible 



172 THREE PLAYS 

if the Major were to lose this beautiful old place that has 
been in his family for a dozen generations. 

EvY. Yes, but one detests feeling like being bargained 
for and sold in the market. 

Mrs. Lieber. Yes, youth and love go hand in hand. 
But your material welfare, as well as your uncle's and 
George's, depends upon this marriage. 

EvY. Well, I'm heartily glad I didn't know anything 
about this wretched will until a few days ago, or I am 
sure I would have hated George. As it is, I have always 
thought of him as my dear play-fellow and chum; and 
besides, you know, Mrs. Lieber, he is the only young man 
I have ever known intimately, for since I have been in the 
convent, I have hardly seen a man. 

Mrs. Lieber. Well you'll see lots of society after your 
marriage, my dear ; and I shall be glad to see the old house 
lighted up again, and full of gaiety as it used to be years 
ago. 

EvY. Oh, I have been so afraid since I heard about 
this wretched will, that I shall not like George as well 
as I used to. If only I had not heard about it, I should 
be happy at the thought of meeting my old chum. 
(Rushes to window.) Ah, there it is now. Yes, there 
they are getting out. Yes, there's George. I would 
know him among a thousand people. And isn't he tall 
and handsome ! 

[Runs to mirror and tidies her hair and dress.^ 

EvY. Oh, I am so nervous. Mrs. Lieber, do I look 
pale? 

Mrs. Lieber. {Laughing.) Not at all, dear; you 
look just charming. 

[Enter Major and Hugh, the latter dressed in fash- 
ionable attire, hut appearently bashful and ill at ease. 
Hugh recognizes Evy as the girl he had seen in the 
station, and shows it by his manner.] 

Hugh. {Aside.) It's the angel I saw in the Grand 
Central Station, the girl of my dreams. 

[Evy kisses the Major^ and rushes gushingly to Hugh. 



THE SUBTERFUGE i73 

The latter very embarrassed, takes her hand and 
shakes it extravagantly. EvY appears doubtful.] 

LiEBER. (Whispering in HvGu's ear.) Call her Evy; 
and kiss her, man ; kiss her. 

[Hugh takes Evy in his arms, and gives her a hug that 
deprives her of her breath. Lieber pushes in be- 
tween them and shaking Evy's hand, talks to her, 
thus distracting her attention from Hugh's awk- 
wardness. ] 

Mrs. Lieber. I'm so pleased to see you again, George. 
You're looking in splendid condition after your long tour. 
Where have you been the last year? 

Hugh. Boston and New York. 

Mrs. Lieber. Boston? 

Major. Hem, Mrs. Lieber said the last year, not the 
last week, George. The last few letters I had from you 
were from Manila. 

Hugh. Oh yes, of course, I was exploring the islands. 

Mrs. Lieber. What struck you as most remarkable 
about the Philippines, George? 

Hugh. Well, I think the grit and fighting qualities of 
the fuzzy-wuzzies. 

Evy. Fuzzies, George, what are those? 

Hugh. Oh, that's one of the names we fellows have 
for the Moros. 

Evy. We fellows? What are you talking about, 
George ? 

Lieber. George was a newspaper correspondent for 
a while, you know, and he lived so much with the soldiers, 
that he almost came to consider himself one. 

Evy. How lovely and exciting it must have been! 
And I suppose you saw lots of shots fired, and cannons 
roaring, and Sulus and Moros and that kind of thing. 

Hugh. Oh, yes, I was in command of a machine gun 
for several months, and on one occasion the cartridge 
jammed, and the devils got right on top of us. 

Evy. Awful. 

Mrs. Lieber. How dreadful; were you hurt? 



174 THREE PLAYS 

Major. (Aside to Lieber.) He's all right on that 
tack, so we had better let him stay there until we can 
get him out of the room for a little while. 

Lieber. DeviHsh close, Major. Too close for comfort. 

EvY. (Excitedly.) And were you wounded, George? 

Hugh. Just a clip under the rib from a spear. 
Another big devil had a ten-foot spear against my neck, 
when Sergeant McCarthy shouted "Duck your head, 
Allen," and down I went, and the spear only parted my 
hair instead of my spinal column. 

EvY. Why did he call you Allen? 

[Major grips Lieber's arm in alarm.] 

Hugh. Oh, well, you know, that — that — that's a nick- 
name. We all had nicknames. 

Lieber. (To Major.) Phew, I thought it was all 
over. 

EvY. How funny! Is that an army custom? 

Hugh. Oh, yes, I got so used to being called Allen, 
that I would answer to it as readily as I would to my 
own name. (To Lieber aside.) By Jove, I'd never do 
it, if she wasn't in the game; and isn't she the gay de- 
ceiver ! She sure must be a born actress. 

Mrs. Lieber. But where did you pick up that accent, 
George ? 

Hugh. Oh ! I came by it honestly enough. 

EvY. It sounds like a Southern accent. 

Hugh. That's what it is — the real thing. 

Major. (Hurriedly.) George has been in the South, 
you know, recently. He has been studying the agricul- 
tural question amongst the Virginian mountaineers. 

Hugh. That's what I've been doing. 

Lieber. And he was quartered with a Southern regi- 
ment for several months in Cuba. 

Hugh. That's true enough, anyhow. 

EvY. I think it's a very nice accent; I think I shall 
try to acquire it. 

Hugh. And happy I'll be to teach you. And so there 



THE SUBTERFUGE 175 

may be a fair exchange, I'll take lessons from your sweet 
self to get back the accent I have lost. 

EvY. It's a bargain. 

Hugh. Sealed by a — 

EvY. Handshake. 

Hugh. {To Lieber.) I thought I was getting 
another sweet kiss coming to me. 

Lieber. Cut them out ! They're not in the contract. 

Hugh. No, but if they come my way I can't dodge 
them. I must play the part, you know. 

Mrs. Lieber. You must be fatigued after your jour- 
ney, so I will go to the dining room and order tea. You 
will help me, Evy? 

EvY. Certainly, Mrs. Lieber. {They go out with 
Lieber. ) 

Major. Now, my boy, you must forget about Allen 
and the army, once for all. I have spent three weeks 
with you coaching about your family history, and helping 
you to forget your past identity, and you must be a fool 
to make those mistakes. 

Hugh. It can't matter very much with the members 
of the family, when they know all about it, and that I 
am only acting. 

Major. Once again, let me impress upon you, that 
you must keep up your acting even with me. 

Hugh. Oh, it's easy enough with you and the lawyer, 
but the little girl and her sweet innocence and beautiful 
eyes disarmed me entirely, and made me feel what a 
hypocrite I am. 

Major. Hypocrite be dashed, man. Evy knows as 
well as I do that you are acting a part. She is playing 
a part herself ; and her whole future and fortune depend 
on how well she and you act it. 

Hugh. I cannot believe she is acting a part. She 
looks so sweet and innocent. 

Major. Hang sentiment! remember this is purely a 
matter of business. 

Hugh. Five thousand dollars' worth of business. It 



176 THREE PLAYS 

is a colossal fortune to me. I'll feel as rich as Croesus, 
and I need the money. 

Major. Yes, and if you play your part well, and make 
no mistakes, I'll give you a letter of credit payable in 
San Francisco for five thousand more. That's more than 
you ever had in your life before, and more than you ever 
expected to have, and you ought to work carefully and 
hard to get it. 

Hugh. Oh, I'll feel rich enough to pay off the national 
debt when I get it; and it ought to be easy to play the 
game when everybody's in it. 

Major. Forget your past existence, and try to live and 
think as George Dinsmere. You must call me father, 
and speak to Evy as you would had you known her from 
childhood. The servants are all new with the exception 
of Smithers, who is in the game. But whether people 
know the game or not, you must expect to be treated by 
all as George Dinsmere. 

Hugh. Well, it oughtn't to be hard for a few weeks. 

Major. You must keep eternally on your guard, and 
let nothing surprise you, until after you are married and 
out of New York forever. 

Hugh. It's the marriage that knocks me out. 

Major. Take that as it comes, like everything. But 
above all, keep on your guard against Davies. (Enter 
EvY.) 

EvY. Tea is ready now. Uncle. Come along, George. 

Major. I don't care for any tea, this afternoon. 
(Exit.) 

Hugh. Well, now, I'd rather have a chat with your 
sweet self than the best cup of tea ever brewed. 

EvY. How nice of you to say that, George; and I'm 
simply dying to have a chat with you about the fuzzy- 
wuzzies and Filipinos, and all the things you have seen 
on your travels. 

Hugh. My, my, but I can hardly believe it. 

EvY. Believe what? 

Hugh. That you're such a good actress. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 177 

EvY. I'm not a good actress ; and why do you say that? 

Hugh. Never mind — ^but you certainly have promi- 
sing talent. 

EvY. All our friends have been asking when you were 
expected back. But you had better come along now, and 
have a cup of tea. 

[As they leave the room, the Major enters.} 

Major. When you have shown George into the dining 
room, come back, Evy. I want to have a few words 
with you. 

[EvY and Hugh go out. Enter Lieber.] 

LiEBER. We must win, man, we can't lose unless some 
unforeseen accident happens. The resemblance is marv- 
elous, and the fellow has both the wit and intelligence to 
pull him through. 

Major. Yes, but during the past few weeks while I 
have been coaching him, I have found that he is rather 
squeamish on certain points of honor, and his conscience 
troubles him occasionally with the fact that someone is 
being deceived and wronged in this matter. 

Lieber. He doesn't seem to mind skinning Davies? 

Major. Funnily enough, that's one of his points of 
honor. 

Lieber. Yes, you worked the story of the distressed 
maiden so well that he thinks that in robbing Davies, he 
is only preventing that blackguard from robbing Evy. 

Major. Yes, that is the point I am afraid of. If 
these two are together many days, he will discover that 
Evy knows nothing about this plot of ours, and thinks he 
is George. 

Lieber. Well, you can't prevent them from being to- 
gether a lot. 

Major. That would be impossible and unwise; but I 
must invent a yarn for Evy that will prevent her from 
suspecting anything. And I think we had better rush 
these marriage preparations, and have the wedding take 
place in a few days. 

Lieber. I'm afraid any undue haste will cause suspi- 



178 THREE PLAYS 

cion, but perhaps it is the lesser of the two evils. By the 
way, how's the real George. 

Major. He is well in health, but extremely unman- 
ageable at times. He is safely locked up in the upper 
part of the house. 

LiEBER. Be careful he doesn't get downstairs, or our 
castle will tumble about our ears like a pack of cards. 
[Enter Evy. Exit Lieber.] 

EvY. What is it, Uncle? 

Major. I just wanted to ask you my dear, to be 
lenient with any of George's idiosyncracies. 

Evy. Oh, certainly, Uncle George. I have too many 
faults myself to be critical of others. 

Major. I don't mean that only, my dear; but you 
know, George occasionally suffers from lack of memory, 
and is troubled with a certain mental confusion. 

Evy. Indeed! I hadn't noticed it, Uncle. I'm so 
sorry to hear it. 

Major. Oh, it's nothing serious, my dear. It is only 
when he is very fatigued or excited; and, of course, it is 
a legacy left from that dreadful wound he received on his 
head four years ago. It is nothing serious at all, but 
sometimes he imagines he is another person. 

Evy. How very strange. 

Major. Yes, isn't it? He thinks — his name is Hugh 
Allen or some such name. He gets quite indignant if 
anyone disagrees with him on the subject. 

[Evy takes out her handkerchief and begins to cry.] 

Major. There, there, my dear, there's nothing to cry 
about. 

EvY. Oh, uncle, I am so sorry he is not well yet. He 
looks so big and strong, and handsome. It nearly breaks 
my heart to think that his poor head is still troubling him. 

Major. It is nothing, my dear, and it may not occur 
once a year. In fact, the doctors say that in a little while 
it will wear off altogether, 

EvY. (Smiling.) I'm so pleased to hear that. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 179 

George was so bright and clever when I knew him before 
the accident, I can't bear to think of him otherwise. 
[Enter Smithers.] 

Smithers. Mr. Lieber would like to see you in the 
library, sir. 

[Exit Major and Smithers, mid enter Hugh. Evy 
takes his arm and leads him to sofa and they sit 
down.] 

Evy. Now, George, I want you to tell me all about 
yourself these last three years. 

Hugh. That would be a long story. Miss Seacrest. 

Evy. Miss Seacrest, indeed. How ridiculous of you ! 
Why don't you call me Evy? 

Hugh. Certainly I will call you Evy if you wish me 
to. 

Evy. Of course I wish you to, silly boy. Haven't I 
always called you George as long as I've known you? 

Hugh. (Laughing sarcastically.) It takes quite an 
effort of memory to cover thirty minutes. 

Evy. Thirty minutes — what are you talking about? 

Hugh. Well, you've known me just thirty minutes 
as George Dinsmere. If you heard of me before, it was 
as Hugh Allen. 

Evy. I know all about Hugh Allen. Forget him for 
today at least. 

Hugh. Forget him, oh yes, that's easy while I'm with 
you. 

Evy. I want you to be your dear old self, George, and 
talk about old times. 

Hugh. A kind of dress rehearsal, I suppose. 

Evy. I'm not going to talk to you about Hugh Allen, 
and I'm going to leave the room if you insist on talking 
about that horrid person — I don't like him. 

Hugh. (Stiffly.) Oh, thank you, I won't forget my- 
self again. 

Evy. (Making a determined effort to change the sub- 
ject.) That's a good fellow. Oh, I so wish you'd been 
here this morning! I had such a delightful ride on old 



i8o THREE PLAYS 

Robin. You know, it was on his broad back I had my 
first lesson in riding. I rode him nearly every day for 
five years. 

Hugh. Luck}^ Robin ! 

EvY. I believe he knew me when I went into the stall 
today. Of course I rushed out to see him the minute I 
got up, and when I gave him some sugar, he whinnied 
and showed his pleasure. 

Hugh. We must go and see old Robin again by and 
by. 

EvY. Yes, I should like to, and what have they done 
with poor Kitty? 

Hugh. I don't know. I've been away for over three 
years, you know. 

EvY. Kitty was a great favorite with me. 

Hugh. Yes, I remember Kitty was a good old mare. 

EvY. Old mare ! What are you talking about, 
George? Fancy calling our poor little dog an old mare. 

Hugh. That was a joke, Evy. 

EvY. I'm glad to hear it. But I don't like you to poke 
any fun at my pets. 

Hugh. I'm sorry, Evy — I won't do it any more. 

EvY. And weren't you grieved to hear of poor Jane's 
death? I cried for two whole days when Uncle George 
wrote and told me about it. 

Hugh. Poor Jane. She died of the mange, and 
father sent her to the veterinary surgeon to be stuffed as 
an ornament for his library. 

EvY. Oh, George, you shock me. How can you talk 
about my old nursey like that. 

Hugh. Bad luck to me, I'm putting myself in bad. 

[Enter Smithers. Evy draws away from George] 

EvY. We had a note from Mrs. Cannon today to say 
that she and the doctor are coming to call tomorrow. 

Hugh. Well, what's the answer to that. 

EvY. George! 

Hugh. Oh, I mean I'm very pleased to hear it. I 



THE SUBTERFUGE i8i 

hope he'll bring his medicine chest, for I certainly shall 
need something soothing by tomorrow. 

EvY. Oh, are you feeling ill? 

Hugh. No — only one minute I'm tickled to death, and 
the next I feel half crazy. 

EvY. Oh, poor dear fellow. (Puts her arm on his 
shoulder. Hugh cuddles up.) But what would poor 
Doctor Cannon have to do with medicine? Oh, I see, 
you're thinking of Doctor Gunn, who treated your head. 
Dr. Cannon is the minister. 

Hugh. Yes, yes, ha, ha! I thought Cannon was 
Gunn — the son of a gun. 

Smithers. Major Dinsmere ordered me to show you 
to your room, Master George. 

EvY. Oh, don't mope away the whole afternoon in 
your room. It's three hours to dinner time yet, and I've 
heaps to say to you. 

Hugh. All right. Goodbye, Evy, till this evening. 
[Exit Smithers. Enter Martha excitedly.] 

Martha. Oh, Miss, have you seen Master George? 

Evy. Why, certainly, he left here only a minute ago. 

[Martha rushes out. Enter Smithers excitedly. 
Looks behind chairs and curtains and rushes out the 
other side. Enter Major, who searches excitedly 
and rushes out.] 

Evy. Good gracious, what's the matter with those 
people? There must be a fire. 

[Exit. Enter Smithers and Lieber.] 

Smithers. Well, blow me up a blooming gum-tree, 
sir, this beats the blooming band. The real Master 
George has broken out of his room, and is tearing about 
loose with fire in his eye. If these two should get 
together, there would be an 'igh old time, and I shall 
lose my job. 

Lieber. The devil, you say. {Exit. Enter Major.) 

Major. Have you found him, Smithers ? 

Smithers. Found him, not hi, sir. I wish I 'ad, 



i82 THREE PLAYS 

cause he's as mad as an 'atter today, and will do some 
damage unless he's laid hold of. 

Major. You son of a fool to let him go ! 

Smithers. Law, sir, 'twarn't my fault. He hauled 
a blooming bar off the window, and jumped to the blind- 
ing ground in a blithering fit. 

Major. Where's the other fellow? 

Smithers. You mean Mr. Allen? 

Major. Yes, yes. 

Smithers. I left him in his room having a shave. 

Major. Well, go up and don't let him out of that 
room till George is locked up. 

Smithers. Lord, sir, how can I 'elp him from leaving 
his room? He'd punch my blooming head if I tried to 
stop him. 

Major. Well, tell him I wish to see him on most im- 
portant business, and not to leave his room for a minute 
till I come there. 

Smithers. All right, sir, all right. 

[Exit. Enter Evy, Joseph, and Marjorie Melville. 
Joseph says very little during the action of the piece 
except "How-do-you-do," and walks about looking 
at things with his cane in his mouth.] 

Major. Good afternoon, Joseph. Good afternoon, 
Miss Melville. 

[EvY rings hell. Enter Martha.] 

EvY. Martha, bring some tea, please. 

Marjorie. I didn't see you out on the links yesterday. 
Major. First rate game, first rate. I hope you'll be out 
with us tomorrow. 

Major. Lm not feeling very fit. {To Smithers.) 
Damn golf, I wish I could get away. If George should 
get in here while these people are here, it would ruin all 
our plans. Keep a sharp lookout. 

[Smithers looks round and exit. Enter Martha 
with tea things. Enter Lieber, who shakes hands 
with Marjorie and Joseph.] 



THE SUBTERFUGE 183 

LiEBER. (Aside to Major.) Seen anything of him 
yet? 

Major. Nothing. 

Marjorie. (To Joseph.) I wonder what all the 
mystery is about. 

Joseph. Beg pardon, dear ? 

Marjorie. (To Evy.) I understand that George is 
back at last. Did you notice any change in him? 

Evy. Not a bit ; he's the same strong, big, handsome, 
brave fellow he always was. 

Marjorie. And he's just as crazy about athletics as 
ever. 

Evy. Why, I didn't know you had seen him since his 
return. 

Marjorie. Well, no, I can hardly say I have met him ; 
but while we were driving up the avenue, he went by 
like a streak of lightning. He certainly must have broken 
a record between the house and the lodge. 
[Major drops cup and saucer.] 

Major. (In whisper.) Good Lord, Lieber, we are 
lost. 

Lieber. I'm afraid our finely laid plan is destroyed. 

Major. You go to Allen's room and hold him there 
at all costs, till George is captured. I will go out on the 
grounds and try to corral him. There is some hope for 
us, as long as both are not at large together. (Exit 
Major and Lieber.) 

Joseph. Devil of a fellow, George, for athletics. 
Always in training; just like a grayhound. 

EvY. Don't you like athletics, Joseph? 

Joseph. Oh, I like to see other fellows do them. Too 
much work for me. 

Marjorie. Joseph, will you go into the dining-room 
for a few minutes, like a good fellow. I want to have 
a few words in private with Evy before I go. 

Joseph. Oh, you needn't mind me. I don't mind 
listening. 

Marjorie. Run along ; I won't keep you five minutes. 



i84 THREE PLAYS 

There are some things which men had better not hear. 
(Exit Joseph.) Now Evy, dear, when is the happy 
event going to be? Because, of course, you and George 
were made for each other ; and when we were all kiddies, 
he would never look at any one but you. 

Evy. Marjorie, dear, you'll be the very first one to 
hear when anything is settled, but there is nothing definite 
yet, though Uncle is very anxious for us to be married 
soon. 

Marjorie. I'm so pleased, dear, and I give you my 
heartiest congratulations. I'm sure you'll be the happiest 
girl in New York. 

[Noise outside and cries. Enter Joseph on a run, 
with his clothes torn, his hat broken, hair, collar, 
and tie rumpled. The ladies appear very much 
alarmed. ] 

Marjorie. What is the matter, Joseph? 

Joseph. Something struck me in the hall, but whether 
it was a madman, or an elephant, I am not sure, as I 
couldn't see in the semi-darkness, but it felt like a steam 
hammer. I don't think we'd better make any more calls 
this afternoon, Marjorie. 

Marjorie. Certainly not while you appear like that. 
We will go home. 

EvY. Won't you stay to dinner? 

Marjorie. No, thank you. 

Evy. Then won't you promise to come and see me 
again tomorrow? 

Marjorie. With pleasure, dear; goodbye. 

[Marjorie and Joseph go out, hut as a voice is heard 
outside, Joseph ttcrns back and gets behind Evy.] 

Marjorie. Come on, silly, it's only Mr. Lieber — 
goodbye. 

[ Marjorie and Joseph exit. Enter Lieber.] 

Lieber. What will you give me if I let you into a 
secret against your Uncle? 

Evy. But I don't want to know my Uncle's secrets, 
Mr. Lieber. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 185 

LiEBER. Yes, but this is a trick that George and his 
father are going to play on you, and they have made a 
bet about it. 

EvY. Oh, do tell me all about it. 

LiEBER. Well, the Major was boasting to George what 
a plucky little girl you were, and George offered to bet 
him a box of cigars that he could scare you. 

EvY. Oh, really! Well, Master George is mistaken. 
And how does he propose to frighten poor little me? 

LiEBER. He is going to pretend to be mad. 

EvY. Ha, ha, ha! I'll show him that two can play 
that game. 

LiEBER. Don't give me away. Good-bye. (Aside.) 
That will prevent trouble in case they should meet. 
(Es^its.) Enter the real George in dressing-gown with- 
out a collar, and hair rumpled.) 

EvY. Oh, he thinks he can frighten me, does he ! 

{When George enters, she turns throwing her 
hands in the air, and giving an imitation of an Indian 
war-dace. George watches her for a few moments, 
then walks up to her, grasps her wrist, and leads her 
a few steps.] 

George. Do you know who I am, little girl? 

EvY. Yes, I do, big man. 

George. I am Bluebeard, and I am going to take you 
to my tower where you will be slave to my seven wives. 

EvY. Mr. Bluebeard, I will go with you to your tower 
some day, but not until you swear to be my slave, and 
there won't be seven wives if I know anything about it. 
[George casts her hand aside and strides hack.] 

George. Woman, I am Ivan the Terrible, and I eat 
little girls like you for dessert. 

EvY. Boo, boo, boo, — I am the thirsty tigress from the 
torrid territory of Terra Del Fuego. Leave my path, or 
I will strike you down and drag you to my lair. 

George. Ah, you are a brave, fair Queen, and a 
worthy mate for me, Edward the Black Prince. Wilt 



i86 THREE PLAYS 

thou not fly with me? My charger waits without, and 
the drawbridge spans the moat. 

[EvY goes up to him and pats him on the cheek.] 

EvY. I will fly with you, my Black Prince, in a railway 
carriage of the New York Central Railway in a few days. 
Till then, be patient. And now, goose, go and put on 
your coat; you can't frighten me. 

[Footsteps are heard outside. George rushes to door, 
stands, and turns back.] 

George. Ah, the fiends are coming to drag me back 
to the dungeon. But I will evade them, I will be re- 
venged. 

[Laughs feverishly and exit.] 

EvY. My goodness, but he's a good actor! If Mr. 
Lieber hadn't let me into the secret, I should have been 
frightened to death. 

[Enter Major behind Evy. When she hears his foot- 
steps, she again commences to act.] 

Major. Good heavens, are you going insane too? 
This is the limit. 

EvY. Oh, is it you. Uncle George? I thought it was 
George. I want to make him lose his bet with you, 
though I hate tobacco and cigars. I hope he'll admit that 
he never even frightened me a little bit. 

Major. His bet with me. 

EvY. Yes, his bet that he could scare me by playing 
the lunatic, but if Mr. Lieber hadn't told me about it, I 
certainly should have been scared to death. 

Major. {Aside.) Phew, Lieber has saved the situa- 
tion. {To EvY.) I am pleased he didn't frighten you, 
little girl, and as I can't divide the prize with you, I must 
give a special prize for yourself — the biggest and best 
box of chocolates I can get. But excuse me now, I want 
to see the rascal. Which way did he go? 

Evy. Towards the conservatory. 

[Exit Major. Enter Hugh and Lieber. Evy throws 
her hands above her head and repeats her war- 
dance. ] 



THE SUBTERFUGE 187 

EvY. Get thee gone, Black Prince, or I will get my 
doughty guards to throw thee in the moat. 

Hugh. {To Lieber.) By Jove, she must have gone 
off her head. That's dreadful. 

EvY. Know thee that I am Joan of Arc, and my army 
is encamped beneath the Castle. (Lieber chuckles to 
himself.) 

Hugh. {Taking her hand and patting her shoulder 
soothingly.) Don't take it to heart, Miss Seacrest. 
Everything will be all right in a few days. I am sorry 
that something has excited you. 

EvY. {To Lieber.) Ah, Master George is forgetting 
all about the acting, so I suppose I had better pretend to 
forget too. {To Hugh.) Well, George, you'll admit 
that you can't frighten me very much, won't you? 

Hugh. Oh yes, I can't frighten you, and I wouldn't 
frighten you for the world. Nothing would be farther 
from my thoughts than to frighten or worry you in any 
way. 

EvY. Don't you think I've acted the part of the lunatic 
maiden very well? 

Hugh. Excellently. But don't do it again. {Enter 
Smithers.) 

Smithers. a gentleman to see you, sir. 

EvY. {Taking card.) Why, it's Davies. I haven't 
seen him for years. Show him up, Smithers. 

Hugh. Please excuse me as I have some letters to 
write. 

EvY. Oh, of course, I know you have no reason to 
like Frank and I don't like him very much myself, but 
I must see him, I suppose. However, I won't ask you 
to share the torture. 

Hugh. I'd like to share the torture with you. I think 
I'd give him more than his share of it. 

EvY. You certainly have no reason to like him, and 
neither have I. 

[Enter Smithers.] 

Hugh. Hadn't I better stay? 



i88 . THREE PLAYS 

Smithers. No, no, sir. 

EvY. Smithers, you forget yourself. 

Hugh. What the deuce have you got to say about it? 

Smithers. Pardon Miss Evy, but the Master wants 
to see Mr. George at once. He is sick, dying — 

Hugh. Dying! Great Caesar, where is he? (Hugh 
rushes out.) 

Smithers. In your room, sir. (Announcing.) 
Captain Davies, Miss. 

Evy. (Starts.) Oh, horror! It is he who frightened 
me so badly at the station. 

Davies. How-do-you-do, Evy. It is quite an age 
since I saw you. But when I heard you were back, which 
was this morning, I hastened to pay my- respects. 

Evy. (Disdainfully.) It was good of you; but you 
needn't have come so far on a matter of social duty. 

Davies. Oh, as you know, I owe you more than a 
social call. 

Evy. I don't understand you. 

Davies. Well, it's my duty — and a very delightful one, 
I may say — under the will of our great-aunt to ask you 
to do me the honor of marrying me. 

Evy. Oh, that wretched will ! When shall I hear the 
end of it? Why cannot you take the property, and let 
me have peace? 

Davies. I should be dehghted, my dear, but the Court 
of Equity is a stickler for form and ceremony. Mrs. 
Martin in her will imposed upon me the duty of asking 
you to be my wife, before you should have reached your 
twenty-first birthday. If you accept me, we shall be sole 
heirs to her enormous estates, valued at several millions. 

Evy. And suppose I don't? 

Davies. Well, if you don't, and we are both unmar- 
ried when you reach that happy day, we shall inherit 
jointly and separately, which is not so bad. 

Evy. Which is very much better. But there was still 
another provision wasn't there? 

Davies. (Aside.) Yes, curse it! 



THE SUBTERFUGE 189 

EvY. And that is, if I marry George Dinsmere, he 
and I inherit the estate jointly, and my uncle gets two 
hundred thousand, and you get nothing. 

Davies. So I believe. Our grand-aunt must have 
been insane when she made that will. 

EvY. Well, Frank, you know uncle has always been 
more like a father to me than anything else, and I love 
him more than I can say. 

Davies. But you can't love George. His mind is un- 
balanced. 

EvY. Well, I am really anxious that Uncle should get 
the two hundred thousand, so I think I shall have to 
marry George. 

Davies. You can't know what you're risking in mar- 
rying George. You know that for months he was a 
dangerous lunatic and pronounced incurable. 

EvY. Yes, and I suspect whose hand struck the blow 
that darkened his brain. 

Davies. He was struck down in a Bowery dive. You 
can't know anything. 

EvY. Only what I have heard. 

Davies. He was drunk, and rioting with a crowd of 
students, all as bad as himself. 

EvY. You can gain neither my respect nor my love 
by slandering George. 

Davies. But, Evy, I love you, and want to marry you. 

EvY. I assure you the wish is not returned. 

Davies. I am a man of the world, and have the 
entree to the best society. 

EvY. The best society — so called — has no attraction 
for me. 

Davies. I can show you life in its brightest colors, 
and every day and every night would be a round of colors. 

Evy. The life you paint has no fascination for me, 
even if I loved you — which I do not. 

Davies. Well, you shall choose your own life, and do 
just as you wish after we are married. 

EvY. I don't love you, cousin, I'm afraid I don't even 



I90 THREE PLAYS 

like you ; and I wouldn't marry you if I were compelled 
to go forth and work with my hands for a living. 

Davies. But I love you, and you must marry me — it 
is best for you. 

[Enter Martha behind Evy, so that her eyes and 

■ Davies' meet. She starts back and Davies stops 
short. ] 

Davies. But I won't speak any more about it now. 
I will see you again. And now won't you please ask 
your uncle to see me here? 

Evy. With pleasure. Good-bye. (Exit Evy. Enter 
Martha.) 

Davies. (Savagely.) What brings you here? Are 
you spying on me? If I thought you were, I'd settle you. 

Martha. I am here trying to make an honest living, 
but I overheard you talking to my young mistress, and I 
swear you shall not dishonor her. 

Davies. You don't understand. It is of vital import- 
ance that I marry Miss Seacrest. When I do, I will be 
rich, and I will take care of your sister. 

Martha. Ah, fair words always came from your lips. 
[Enter Lieber unseen.] 

Martha. But there is my sister — still at death's door 
— still calling out your name in her delirium ; and there's 
your child in the little cradle by her side. There is a 
monument of your truth. 

Davies. (Taking out some money and handing it to 
her.) There, there, Martha, I really like your sister very 
much, and would marry her if I could afford it. 

Martha. You made that promise more than once. 

Davies. Curse you, you will drive me insane. She 
knows I love her. Take this money and send it to her, 
and tell her I'll come and see her soon. 

Martha. Ah, your promises are fair and easy. 

Davies. And when my fortunes are right — they will 
be soon — I will take care of her and the child, and will 
give you a thousand dollars to start a nice, snug little 
business of your own. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 191 

Martha. Oh, you have a fair word when you want it, 
but I'm afraid you have a bad heart. 

Davies. Hush, someone is coming, and mark you! 
One word about me, and I will expose your past life to 
these people and get you sent back to the streets. 

[Exit Martha. Enter Major. Davies holds out his 
hand, but the Major pretends not to see it.] 

Major. What can I do for you? 

Davies. I asked to see you as co-executor of the will 
of Mrs. Martin, and tell you that I have made a formal 
offer of marriage to Miss Seacrest. 
[Enter Lieber.] 

LiEBER. As the joint executor of the will of Mrs. 
Martin, I am interested in that statement, so you will not 
resent my presence. 

Major. There can be no interview between Captain 
Davies and myself at which I would not wish you to be 
present. {To Davies.) But if that is all you wish to 
say, I will bid you good afternoon. 

Davies. (Walks to door, but turns back.) That is 
not all. I want to say that I feel sure that George Dins- 
mere is insane, and cannot, consequently, marry Miss 
Seacrest. 

Lieber. Why do you say that at this time? 

Davies. Because I have heard rumors of an approach- 
ing marriage between Miss Seacrest and your son. 

Major. I take great pleasure in confirming these 
rumors, and announce that in a few months my son will 
make Miss Seacrest his wife. 

Davies. Impossible. Your son is a raving lunatic. 
I will be present in church and prevent the ceremony. 

[Major clenches his fist and takes a step towards 
Davies. Lieber waves him back.] 

Lieber. How do you know that George Dinsmere is 
insane ? 

Davies. It doesn't matter how I know. If he is a 
sane man, produce him. 

[Enter EvY and Hugh, laughing and talking.] 



192 THREE PLAYS 

Hugh. (Ironically.) Talking of me? (To Davies.) 
At your service, sir. Let me show you the door. 

[Takes Davies bj the collar, marches him to exit, and 
pushes him out.] 

EvY. (To Hugh.) I haven't yet seen the old south 
shrubbery, where we used to play years ago. Let us 
visit it, George. (They go out.) 

LiEBER. By Jove, Major, the plot works like a charm. 
I believe we'll win, although my nerves are as tight as 
fiddle-strings. 

Major. Keep up your courage, we can't lose, old man. 
But I can have no peace while George is at liberty. 

LiEBER. Any news of him? 

Major. Yes, he is perched in a gigantic oak near the 
stables, with Smithers on guard at the foot trying to coax 
him down. 

LiEBER. I will follow Davies and see him off the place. 

Major. Yes, yes. Do, and then see that Evy and 
Allen are kept out of the way until he is captured. I'll 
help Smithers to coax him down. (They both go out. 
Enter Abraham.) 

Abraham. My! vat a fuss. Everyone seems to be 
topsy turvy. No servant about the place — and ain't it a 
lovely place. And it will be mine for only fifty thousand. 
Five hundred acres within fifteen miles of the city hall. 
Why in the next boom it will be worth a million cut up 
in lots. Ah ! Abraham, my boy, you will be a millionaire, 
and my little Isaac will go to Congress and perhaps be 
Governor. Goot, goot, goot. (Takes mortgage from his 
pocket.) Ah! there is my precious mortgage which 
makes me lord of all I see. 

[He kisses it. Enter George. He sees Abraham, 
pounces upon him,, and pommels him into insensi- 
bility. Takes mortgage, tears off a piece and com- 
mences to eat it. Abraham runs and George goes 
after him, then sits down and begins to eat mortgage. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 193 

Enter Major and Smithers who struggle to over- 
power him. George throws them off, runs to win- 
dow, and, with one leg out, continues to eat 
mortgage. ] 
George. Ah, this is simply delicious. 



CURTAIN 



194 THREE PLAYS 



ACT III. 

[Scene: Dining room at Dinsmere House, three days 
later. Smithers and Martha dusting and prepar- 
ing the room. Martha goes to window and looks 
out.^ 

Martha. No sign of them yet, Mr. Smithers. 

Smithers. I hope nothing has gone wrong. 

Martha. And what could go wrong, you old blith- 
erer? Such a beautiful pair as they are. I never set 
eyes on the like in all my life before. 

Smithers. And don't you think we'd make a pretty 
blooming pair ourselves ? 

Martha. Sure we would. A pair of peaches, only 
the bloom is off a bit. 

Smithers. Say, Martha, won't you name the day? 
The governor has promised to let me have the cottage 
any day. 

Martha. I have ideas above cottages, Mr. Smithers. 

Smithers. I dears is all right, but solid facts is the 
real thing. And we can be as happy as a pair of squirrels 
year in and year out, for the rest of our natural lives. 

Martha. What will you say, Bill Smithers, when I 
tell you that I lost a thousand dollars this morning? 

[Smithers drops his napkin and stops with his m,outh 
open, dumb with am.azement.'\ 

Smithers. Lost a thousand dollars, Martha? Have 
yer been taking of something to make yer dream? 

Martha. Dream nothing. I swear, Bill, I have lost 
a thousand dollars this blessed day. 

Smithers. I wouldn't call it a blessed day if I had 
lost a thousand, but when did he die, Martha? 

Martha. You're off the side-walk. Bill; nobody's 
left me nothing ! 



THE SUBTERFUGE 19S 

Smithers. But you said you had a thousand dollars 
this morning. 

Martha. I said nothing of the kind. I said I lost a 
thousand dollars. 

Smithers. Ho — quit yer kiddin'. I ain't good at 
guessing, and I'm in no mood for jokin'. 

Martha. Faith, it's no joke. Bill. I've lost a thousand 
dollars by this here marriage. 

Smithers. Well, spit it out. Tell me about it if yer 
goin' ter. You've got me all on edge. 

Martha. Can you read, Bill? 

Smithers. Your insults are un-noticed. 

Martha. Here, read that. 

Smithers. (Reads.) "Dear Martha: Meet me at the 
Palm Garden tonight, and don't forget that it's your own 
fault if you're not a thousand dollars richer within a 
month. F. D." Ha, ha, ha; so you've been keeping 
appointments with other gentlemen again. I washes me 
hands of yer. 

[Smithers turns his back and walks with his head in 
the air. Martha grabs his shoulder and drags him 
back.] 

Martha. Don't be a chump. Bill Smithers. This was 
not sweet-heartin' ; this was business. 

Smithers. Out with it, out with it! Who's me 
bloomin' rival? 

Martha. (Looks around, and in a loud whisper.) 
Captain Davies. 

Smithers. The devil ! 

Martha. That's who he is — the devil or one of his 
imps. 

Smithers. And did you go. 

Martha. Yes, I went for the sake of my sister. You 
know she loves the very ground that devil walks on. 

Smithers. And what did he want? 

Martha. Well, the day before yesterday when he 
was here, I heard him propose to my young lady, and I 



196 THREE PLAYS 

ups and tells him I would show him up unless he stopped 
that game, and he did the right thing by my sister Clara. 

Smithers. Good for you, old girl. 

Martha. At first he got mad-like; but when he saw 
he couldn't frighten me he used the soft words he has so 
smooth on the end of his tongue's end, and he says to me, 
"Martha," says he, "there's a thousand dollars in it for 
you when I marry Miss Seacrest, and five thousand for 
Clara and the kid, providing you all goes back to 
England." 

Smithers. That was the blooming afternoon the 
Governor told me to see him out the front door — and you 
should have seen his face. I half suspected he'd come 
back and bum the house down. 

Martha. He'd do it. too, the devil! if it weren't for 
risking his precious skin. 

Smithers. Well, what did he say to you, when you 
sees him at the Palm Garden? 

Martha. He says, says he, "Is there any other gentle- 
man staying at the house at present besides Master 
George?" And I says, says I, "No, that with the excep- 
tion of Mr. Wetherby and himself, that there had been no 
other young man in the house since it was opened three 
weeks ago." Says he, "How does Master George behave 
about the house?" I says, says I, "Like a perfect gentle- 
man." 

Smithers. Ha, ha, good for you, Martha! 

Martha. Says he,"Has he ever appeared a bit daffy- 
like?" I says, says I, "Yes, he does, he appears to be 
perfectly daffy about the young lady," (Smithers 
laughs.) says I. And with that, he banged the table as 
if he was mad about something. . 

Smithers. {Chuckling.) Good, good, ha, ha, ha! 

Martha. When I left, he gives me a five-dollar bill, 
and asks me to write him every night and tell him whether 
or no any new person appears at the place, and what 
goes on. 

Smithers. Go on with yer yarn. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 197 

Martha. Well as there's nothing to tell, I did it. 

Smitheus. I knows it; I'm on to his little game. 

Martha. What are you on to? Now you tell me 
your story. I've told you all I knows. 

Smithers. In a little while, my girl — when we're 
married. 

Martha. Well, Bill Smithers, we'll never be married, 
if you act so mean as to have secrets from me. 

Smithers. Well, don't be so blooming offish about it. 
There's lots of young ladies that would be glad to throw 
themselves at William Smithers, Esquire. 

[Smithers winks the off-eye, and begins to dust 
vigorously.] 

Martha. Bill, there's something I didn't tell you. 

Smithers. Well, I didn't ask you to tell me, did I? 

Martha. I'd like to tell you, because you're the only 
friend I've got. 

Smithers. (With another wink.) Well, I'm all 
attention. 

Martha. Well, yesterday after luncheon Mr. Lieber 
remained in the dining-room, and says to me, "Martha, 
I have heard that Captain Davies is acquainted with some 
member of your family." "Yes, and it's not a bit my 
sister's fault." "How long has she known Captain Dav- 
ies," says he. "A year ago last Christmas," says I. 
"And he promised to marry her," says he. "That he did, 
sir," says I. "And he even went so far as to fake up a 
marriage, and it's nearly broken-hearted she is, when she 
found out how she'd been deceived — and she the prettiest 
girl in Brooklyn." "Well, Martha," says he, "I take an 
interest in your case, and I will call and see your sister 
soon, and talk it over." 

Smithers. And did he call? 

Martha. Yes. Ssh, ssh — here's Abraham. 

[Enter Abraham, arm in sling, crutch under other 
arm, head bandaged.] 

Abraham. Ah, but I'm in the house, though it cost 



198 THREE PLAYS 

me a good hammering. But I'm a guest like any other 
gentleman and I'll own the place yet. 

Smithers. Here, Master Abraham, you'd better get 
out. The guests are returning. 

Abraham. Ain't I a guest? 

Smithers. Yes, you're a guest all right, but you're 
hardly the kind of a spectacle a wedding-party would like 
to see. 

Abraham. Look here, I'm a guest of the house, and 
I'll be the owner of the place yet, and if you're not polite, 
you'll lose your job. 

Smithers. Do you know who's been married today? 

Abraham. How could I know who's been married, 
when I've been in bed for three days? This is the first 
minute that I could get up and crawl round and look at 
my estate — that is to be. 

Martha. (Laughing.) Well, it's the man that half 
killed you, and he'll kill you entirely if he comes back and 
sees you here. So get out. 

Abraham. Oh, won't I make a clean sweep when I 
foreclose my mortgage. 

Martha. (Throwing duster.) Get out, you scare- 
crow. . Here they come. There are the carriages. 

[Rushes to window, followed by Smithers. Exit 
Abraham. ] 

Martha. Ah, there he is! Don't he look noble and 
handsome. 

Smithers. Ain't she a queen! What a handsome 
couple they make. Oh, do name the happy day, Martha. 

[Enter Evy, Hugh, Major, Lieber, Mrs. Lieber, 
Marjorie Melville, and Joseph.] 

Major. (Walking up to Smithers.) Smithers, at 
the very first opportunity, as soon as Miss Evy has gone 
to change, present this to Mr. Allen. 

Smithers. Very well, sir. 

Evy. George, this is the first opportunity I have had 
to speak to you as uncle was in the cariage with us. 

Hugh. I am glad it is all over. It was heart-break- 



THE SUBTERFUGE 199 

iiig; it was so real that I have wanted a dozen times to 
take you to my heart and tell you how much I love you, 
though I know how little right I have to do that, and you 
must despise me for the part I have played. 

EvY. I have been very happy through it all, George 
dear. 

Hugh. {Impatiently.) Cannot you forget the sham 
George for a moment? We have only a few minutes 
together. Speak to me as Hugh Alien: — if only once, 
that I may carry away the memory of it forever. 

EvY. Oh, don't get excited, dear boy. I will call you 
Hugh Allen, or any other name, if it pleases you. Now 
I must run away and change my dress for the journey. 
I don't care for anything now. 

Hugh. Are you an angel or a demon to speak to me 
like this ? You know in your heart that in a few minutes 
you will have seen the last of me — in this life at least. 
You must know that when I have forgotten that I ever 
posed as George Dinsmere, I will love you as Hugh Allen. 
You must know, with your woman's intuition, that you 
have taken a place in my heart that no other woman can 
ever displace. Cannot you give poor, despised, dishon- 
ored Allen one kind and loving thought to take the place 
of the woman he has allowed himself so foolishly to love? 

EvY. Dear boy, I won't stay another moment with 
you, and you must calm down in time to say good-bye. 
Au revoir, dearest. 

[As she goes out she calls goodbye to all the other 
guests. ] 

Joseph. {To Marjorie.) Now, Marjorie, that's just 
the kind of wedding I want when we are married — nice 
and quiet — and only the family and one or two near 
friends. 

Marjorie. Oh, it would never do, Joseph; what 
would society think? 

Joseph. Oh, hang society. 

{Refreshments are being served by Martha and 
Smithers. ] 



200 THREE PLAYS 

Major. {To Lieber.) Now, Lieber, you'd better 
send Mrs. Lieber back to the station, so that she can 
catch the next train back to the city, and as the carriage 
will be going, it will be a good excuse to get rid of Joseph 
and Miss Melville. 

Lieber. Yes, that will give you a clear field to get 
rid of Allen without making too much of a fuss. 

Major. I am considerably worried, Lieber, as to how 
Evy will behave. I'm afraid she's hard hit with the boy, 
and it will break her heart when we tell her the truth. 

Lieber. Well, it's principally for her benefit, and you 
must rush her away on tomorrow's boat to Europe. Give 
her carte blanche in Paris, my boy, and if that doesn't 
help her to forgive and forget she's different from other 
women. 

Lieber. {To Mrs. Lieber.) I'm afraid I'll have to 
hurry you, my dear, as you will have barely time to catch 
the train. 

Major. You'll excuse my apparent lack of hospitality, 
Joseph, but it might be best for you and Miss Melville to 
take the carriage with Mrs. Lieber, as the happy couple 
will need the only other available one. Lieber and I will 
stay on to settle the legal details. 

Marjorie. Yes, that will suit us very nicely, Major 
Dinsmere, and congratulations. 

[Good-hyes are exchanged and Mrs. Lieber, Mar- 
jorie, and Joseph go out. Enter Hugh.] 

Hugh. Now, sir, give me the price of my dishonor 
and depart. 

Major. Here you are, Allen. You will find five 
thousand dollars in bills in that envelope, and a letter of 
credit on San Francisco for a similar amount. We wish 
you happiness and success in your new career. 

Hugh. A few weeks ago, when I first met you, this 
seemed a large sum. But today I feel I have lost two 
things for which this but ill repays me. 

Major. Tut, tut, man, you have lost nothing. You 
have aided in doing a good turn for a pretty and innocent 



THE SUBTERFUGE 201 

girl, and the only person injured by the transaction is a 
scoundrel. 

Hugh. The nearness which I have enjoyed to that 
pure sweet girl, has awakened the finer instincts which 
lay dormant within me; and worse still, I have learned 
to love her with a love that will always dominate me, 
while I hate myself for doing it, knowing as I do that 
she has looked upon me with contempt through it all. 

Major. Nonsense, man. You were doing it for her 
sake. 

Hugh. Often when my heart has melted, and my love 
surged forth to meet her winning, winsome smile, the 
thought that she was acting a part, and perhaps consid- 
ered me a mere weak tool in the commission of this crime, 
has served to rouse me to rebellion almost, against the 
whole plot ; but heaven knows, in spite of all, I love her, 
and I will always think of her, not as the half adventuress 
which you have painted her, but as a pure, sweet, innocent 
girl — the highest ideal of my imagination. 

Major. Come, my good fellow, this romantic non- 
sense is entirely out of place. You were engaged for a 
certain service, and you have your pay for it. Now, the 
sooner you complete your contract by leaving this house 
and the state, the better. 

Hugh. Very well. I will change my clothes into 
something more suitable for travel, and get out. 
[Eji:it Major and Hugh. Enter Evy.] 

EvY. I wonder where George is. I suppose he is busy 
with Uncle and Mr. Lieber. But what does it matter? 
I will have him to myself for days, and weeks, and 
months, and years. I am so happy. I love him so much. 
(Looks at her watch.) Still two hours to wait for that 
wretched train. I hope he won't stay with them all that 
time. 

[Enter the real George, hair and clothes disarranged 
as before.'] 

EvY. Ha, ha, there you are ! and what a perfect fright 
you look again, What have you been doing to yourself? 



202 THREE PLAYS 

Now none of that nonsense about Allen, or I won't speak 
to you for a week. 

George. (Laughing uneasily.) Ha, ha, I see by your 
smile that I am still your favorite and as sure as my name 
is Walter Raleigh, I'm ready to lay my body in the mud- 
covered street to keep your fairy feet from dampness. 

EvY. (Marching right up to him, and looking him in 
the face.) Now, I won't have any more of this nonsense 
on our wedding day. I've just been dying for you to 
come in, and now you're playing. (She stops suddenly.) 
My God, what is this dreadful thing? Those eyes, that 
mouth, this is not acting. He is mad, mad, mad. 
[She buries her face in her hands and sohs.] 

George. (Soothingly.) Don't cry, little baby. I 
won't hurt you. I'm not angry with you. 

EvY. Even his voice is changed. Those tones that 
had such power to thrill every fibre in my heart, are 
gone, gone, gone. 

George. (Pathetically.) I am not angry with you, 
little baby, only with Smithers for locking me in that 
cold, ugly tower for days and days, when I long to be 
out in the green fields. 

[EvY starts up, and, looking in his eyes for a moment, 
studies every line of his face.] 

EvY. Oh, my poor darling, how changed in one short 
hour. What are those sunken cheeks, those heavy lines? 
It is not George. It is not my darling, and yet, oh God, 
I am going mad myself. Save me, save me, save me. 

George. I can't save you — dear one — I wish I could. 
I can't even save myself. They are running after me 
again. 

[Runs out. Enter Smithers, looking excitedly around. 
As he is about to rush out Evy calls him, back.] 

EvY. Smithers, come here. 

Smithers. Excuse me, now. Miss, I'm in a great 
hurry on important business. 

EvY. ( Commandingly. ) Smithers, come here instantly. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 203 

Smithers. Yes, Miss, but I'm in a great hurry, and 
I will send Martha to you. 

EvY. Smithers, answer me truly and without equivo- 
cation. Where is George? 

Smithers. Which of them? 

EvY. What? 

Smithers. I means Miss — really Miss, let me go, or 
I shall be a losing of my job. 

EvY. Smithers, who is the lunatic who frightened me 
so badly just now? 

Smithers. Excuse me, Miss, that was your husband. 
There he is now, and I must catch him or I shall lose my 
place. (Smithers exit.) 

EvY. I am a child no longer. I will solve this mystery. 

[Goes after Smithers. Enter Hugh and Major.] 

Major. You will find the carriage ready, and I need 
not say, that if you meet Miss Seacrest, you will refrain 
from speaking to her. 

Hugh. I won't need the carriage. The distance to 
the station is only a few miles, and the walk will help to 
calm my mind, and to get me used to the new order of 
things. 

Major. How about your baggage? You haven't all 
your new things in that bag, surely? 

Hugh. No, only my old things. Perhaps the real 
George will be able to fill them better than I filled his 
shoes. Good-bye. (Exit.) 

Major. By Jove, the ordeal is over, and nothing re- 
mains but to tell the girl that her husband has got a little 
bit daft with the happiness and excitement. 
[Enter Lieber. ] 

Lieber. Well, Dinsmere, the worst is over, and the 
game is almost won. I saw Allen from the window 
striding along the avenue, as if he were anxious to leave 
the house behind him as soon as possible ; and, by George, 
I feel half sorry for him ; he's a fine fellow. 

Major. Ah, yes, I wish he were indeed my son. I 
have learned to love him as such. 



204 THREE PLAYS 

LiEBER. Yes, but the only safe way is to get him out 
of this part of the country. We've been engaged in a 
dangerous breach of the law, my friend, and exposure 
means the prisoner's dock for both of us. 

Major. Yes, I know, and the worst is not yet over. 
[Enter Evy.] 

EvY. Uncle, what have you done with my husband? 

Major. Why, my dear, I have done nothing with 
your husband. He got one of his old attacks directly 
after he got back here and went straight to his room; 
but I presume he will be ready to catch the Western train 
as arranged. 

EvY. Uncle, who was the madman who came into 
this room a few minutes ago, and nearly frightened me 
to death? 

LiEBER. Is it as bad as that? 

Major. Yes I'm afraid he's got a bad attack this time. 

LiEBER. I'm dreadfully sorry, I'm afraid we'll have 
to lock him up in the tower for a few days. 

EvY. I suppose that's the best thing to do. 

Major. I'm exceedingly sorry, my dear, that your 
honeymoon should have such a poor beginning, and I 
think it would be best for you to take a short run over 
to Paris with your uncle until George recovers. The 
excitement was too much for him. 

EvY. No, if my husband is to be locked up in a tower, 
you must lock me up with him and let me nurse him back 
to health. 

Major. But that is impossible, my dear; he is a 
lunatic — dangerous sometimes — he might injure you. 

Evy. If he is a lunatic, why did you let me marry 
him? 

Major. To save your fortune, my dear; besides, he 
was not a lunatic when you were married. 

EvY. I'm sure of that! Although he acted queerly 
sometimes. 

LiEBER. Now, be reasonable, Evy. The marriage has 
taken place, which was to prevent your grand-aunt's mon^ 



THE SUBTERFUGE 205 

ey from falling into the hands of that rascal Davies. In 
a little while, a year perhaps, if your husband does not 
recover his mind, we will get you a divorce without 
scandal or undue publicity. 

[Enter Major.] 

EvY. Oh, you are cruel, pitiless, thus to crush a poor 
girl. Even if your intentions were of the best, your 
view-point was only money, while, alas, I am to suffer 
in mind and heart. Oh, uncle, how could you, how could 
you. Please give me back my husband, and take the 
money, take everything. 

[Enter Hugh.] 

EvY. Ah, George, my husband, I knew you would 
come back to me. 

[Runs to Hugh who holds out his hand against her.] 

Hugh. Pardon, Miss Seacrest, I'm not George as you 
know ; I'm Hugh Allen. 

EvY. You're the man I love. I am your wife. Oh, 
don't turn me away from you. 

Hugh. You must be mistaken. You love George 
Dinsmere. I am only a poor adventurer, a soldier of 
fortune, not of your class. 

Major. (Taking her arm and trying to pull her away.) 
Have you no shame, niece? He has not come back for 
you, but for his money, the price of his work here, which 
will enable him to marry some sweetheart of his own 
class, who is, no doubt, waiting for him now in some 
Sixth Avenue restaurant. 

Hugh. That is an unnecessary lie. Miss Seacrest 
is not of my station of life, but I love her, and her only. 

EvY. {Flying to his arms.) I am your wife; don't 
let them separate us, it would kill me, I will be proud to 
bear your name, whatever it is. 

Hugh. Then you are mine, and I am yours till death 
and they shall never part us with my consent. 



curtain 



2o6 THREE PLAYS 



ACT IV. 



[Scene: same, an hour later. Lieber and Major sitting 
at table as curtain rises. Enter Evy. ] 

Major. Well, my dear, I am glad to see that you 
have pulled yourself together. The trip will do you good, 
and you will soon forget all the excitement in constant 
travel. 

Evy. I shall never forget it. Uncle, and I'm afraid I 
shall never forgive you for causing me this great pain, 
and for driving the man I love from the house. 

Libber. But it was the only thing to be done, my 
dear. The marriage was not a legal one, and you could 
not, under the circumstances be permitted to see him 
again. 

EvY. If you were as anxious to bring us together, as 
you are to separate us, you would — you could — find a 
way. 

Lieber. There was only one way, and that was to 
send Mr. Allen away. 

Major. You must try to forget all this, my dear. 
We acted for the best in this matter, and now that our 
plot has failed, we must all try to forget it, unless, indeed, 
you will be reasonable, and consent to keep up the 
deception. 

EvY. I cannot do it ; I cannot. 

Lieber. Now, listen to me, Evy. I see a way out of 
the difficulty. You write to Mr. Allen and ask him to 
leave New York for three years, and at the end of that 
time, if you are both of the same mind he can come back 
and pay court to you in due form. 

EvY. Three years. I cannot think of it. It is 
eternity. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 207 

Major. Yes, Evy, for my sake, and poor George's, 
do this. Let the announcement go forth, as we originally 
planned, so that the estate can be distributed. We can 
go abroad and travel the greater part of that period, and 
Mr. Lieber can attend to the details of a quiet divorce 
from your husband George, and then you can go abroad 
and marry Mr. Allen under his own name. 

EvY. I suppose it is the best thing that can be done, 
and if you will permit me to see Hugh, I will ask his 
advice about it, and if he consents, I will. 

Lieber. No, no, you had better not see him any more ; 
but you can write to him if you wish. 
[Enter Smithers.] 

Smithers. Captain Davies wishes to see you at once, 
sir. 

Major. I will not see him now; tell him to come 
some other time. 

Smithers. But he insists he must see you sir. He 
won't be put off. 

Major. Tell him to go to — 

[Enter Davies.] 

Davies. Pardon my intrusion, gentlemen, and you, 
Mrs. — . By the by, what is your name? 

Major. Mrs. George Dinsmere, sir, my son's wife. 

Davies. Ha, ha, ha, that's funny; I didn't know you 
had twins. 

[Major appears dumbfounded.] 

Lieber. What do you mean, sir, by intruding at this 
time? 

Davies. Ah, you're the scoundrel that got up the con- 
spiracy to defraud me. What is the punishment for 
conspiracy to defraud? 

Major. What do you mean sir; what do you know? 

Davies. I know that your son, George, is confined in 
the house, a hopeless lunatic. I know that this minute, 
his double is in the village followed by two of my men. 
Your coachman, who is a spy in my employ, informs me 



2o8 THREE PLAYS 

that the other is still a prisoner in the house. Tomorrow 
you will all be in jail. 

EvY. Oh, Hugh, my darling. 

Davies. You will stand by your darling in the criminal 
dock. 

EvY. I care not where I stand, so long as I stand by 
his side. 

Davies. I give you one chance, my lady; and that is 
that you marry me at once. 

EvY. Never. I would suffer any punishment rather 
than become your wife. 

Major. Quite right, Evy. 

Davies. I will give you until tomorrow to make up 
your mind. Be my wife or go to jail with this band of 
criminals. 

[Enter Hugh.] 

Hugh. (Lightly.) How can she become your wife, 
when she is mine already? 

Evy. Oh, darling, I'm so glad to have you back again. 
Don't leave me. 

Davies. Oh, you are the fellow who posed as George 
Dinsmere to defraud me of my rights. Well, it's just as 
well you came back as you couldn't escape. 

Hugh. Escape from what? 

Davies. Escape arrest on the charge of conspiracy, 
perjury, and forgery. My men were on your shadow; 
there they are. 

[Enter Sergeant and Williams in plain clothes.] 

Hugh. Well, I wouldn't escape if I could; and I'd 
cheerfully enter the blackest dungeon in Siberia to be 
near my little wife. 

Evy. I'm not your wife yet, dear, really, but I'll be 
no one else's if I can't be yours. 

Hugh. Yes, you are, my darling, just as solid as the 
law can make us. I never spent five dollars so well in 
my life, as the five I gave a lawyer just now for that 
piece of legal information. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 209 

EvY. (Running to Lieber.) Oh, is it true? Tell me 
it is true. 

Lieber. Yes, that's a good law. He's your husband 
sure enough, and I hope he'll be worthy of you. 

Davies. And you'll spend your honeymoon in a cell 
with the rest of this gang of swindlers. 

Hugh. If there's anybody that will have to go to a 
cell, I think it will be you, Mr. Thug. 

Davies. Ha, ha, that comes well from a man who has 
tried to rob me by impersonating a lunatic. 

Hugh. And who made him a lunatic. Who muddled 
him with drink, and then lured him into a blind alley, to 
strike him down in the dark? Who drank his wine one 
moment, and left him weltering in his blood the next? 

Davies. (Worried.) You're crazy as he, my man! 
I know nothing of what you say. I was at Boston at the 
time. 

Hugh. You were supposed to be in Boston, but you 
returned secretly and met him by appointment. And the 
crime was not without a witness, as you know. 

Davies. (Very nervous.) Ridiculous, my friend. 
No judge would listen to your story. 

Williams. (Stepping forward.) But they would 
listen to mine. Captain. I was your servant then as I 
am now; but I've done your dirty work too long, and 
when it comes to injuring my old chum, the hmit is 
reached. 

[Shakes hands with Hugh.] 

Davies. Damn you ! It's a lie, it's another conspiracy. 

Hugh. We will see about that later. And now the 
air would be purer and fresher for your absence. 

Davies. Major Dinsmere, and you, Mr. Lieber, I 
notify you as trustees that I had complied with the terms 
of my aunt's will, that I had asked Miss Seacrest to be 
my wife, and she refused, so you will oblige me by paying 
me the half of the estate at the earliest convenience. I 



2IO THREE PLAYS 

am entitled to that anyway. Whether I am entitled to 
Miss Seacrest's share we will let the courts decide later. 

LiEBER. When did you ask the young lady to be your 
wife? 

Davies. Three days ago in this house. She will not 
deny it. 

LiEBER. Were you legally entitled to ask her to be 
your wife at that time? 

Davies. What do you mean? Certainly I was. 

Martha. (Stepping forward.) It's a lie. You're 
my sister's wedded husband, God help her. 

Smithers. And God help you. You know what I 
mean. 

Davies. Nonsense ; the ceremony with your sister was 
only a joke. 

Lieber. a pretty expensive joke for you, Captain. 
I have here a certificate of marriage, in good form before 
a magistrate, with Clara Jackson, and that marriage was 
a perfectly legal one in every way — unless you had 
another wife living at the time. 

Davies. You win the trick, gentlemen, but if there 
are any trumps left I will get them out and win the game. 

Lieber. Unless you sail for Europe within two days, 
I will have you arrested for having attempted to murder 
George Dinsmere. 

Davies. Hang it. I cannot leave New York ; my last 
dollar is gone. 

Lieber. If you care to go to the Argentine, I will 
book your passage by the next steamer, and give you a 
thousand dollars to drink yourself to death with when you 
land there. 

Davies. You have cheated me out of a fortune. 
Make it ten thousand. That is the least the Major can 
do. 

EvY. Let him have it, uncle dear, please. 

Lieber. Yes, Dinsmere, let him have it. 



THE SUBTERFUGE 211 

Major. Very well ; call on Mr. Lieber tomorrow. 

Hugh. And now, darling, we will continue our honey- 
moon as first planned, although I feel a terrible thief to 
be running away with so much beauty and riches. 

EvY. Your love repays me a hundred-fold for every- 
thing. 



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